


This Superhero Life

by swhff



Series: This Superhero Life [1]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: California, Character Death, Depression, Drama, F/M, Fast Cars, Gen, Guns, Motorcycles, Organized Crime, Other, Romance, Self-Harm, Shooting, Trans Character, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-22 00:14:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 55
Words: 320,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2487428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swhff/pseuds/swhff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Gemma sentenced to rot in prison after her crimes, unveiled to the club by Juice, Jax decides to do what is right by his family, and take his sons away from outlaw life...for Tara. In doing so, he has honored Chibs with the title of President. With this, Chibs does what he can to mend the wounds the Tellers had created, and clear the club from any detrimental connections. He does it successfully, but SAMCRO does not stay out of trouble for long. They need help, and the club has no choice but to seek out and recruit new Prospects to restore the club. This means dealing with outsiders, and anything can happen.<br/>***<br/>OFFICIAL SITE: thissuperherolife.tumblr.com</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

He found none of it strange until today. Nothing felt wrong, or at least, a tad bit off. He had felt honor, and pride, among other emotions when it was bestowed upon him. He knew his responsibilities, and what he needed to do. He did not rethink anything. Not when it was handed to him, not when he was sitting at home, cigarette between his lips, glasses on, pulling a large needle and thick thread through his cut. It had not felt real until he fulfilled the tasks in front of him, and now stood in the Chapel, hands that normally grasped guns and handlebars, now gripping the back of the wooden chair and a bit of normality. He had not realized how strange it would be to stand at the head of the table—a table that had seen it all and heard so much more. A chair in a position he had never imagined he would sit in. He felt honored, but he feared it. His mentors had sat here. His enemies had sat here. He had never led before, but the bodies ready to take their seats to his right and left knew he could do it better. They had complete faith in him. He was different than the Teller men, because he was not Teller blood. He was not even American blood, for that matter. Nevertheless, he was smart. He had the clearest head. He had more to live for, and had the club never been dragged through shit, then no one would have deserved the honor more. Regardless, he had fulfilled his promises to the club as their new President, and the club members could not feel more proud of Chibs Telford.  
Tig Trager, new Vice President of the Sons of Anarchy, walked up to his spot to Chibs’ right and clapped a hand on the President’s shoulder. Chibs broke himself of his thoughts and glanced up at the blue-eyed man beside him.  
  
“Hey,” Tig said, giving him a crooked smile, “It’s all yours, man. Sit.”  
  
Chibs’ eyes flickered from the Vice President to the gavel on the table. Happy Lowman, their Sergeant at Arms, stood to Chibs’ left and nodded respectfully. Juice Ortiz, newly reinstated and forgiven after learning of former President Jax Teller’s lies and manipulation, and his confession about Gemma Teller, Jax’s mother, murdering his wife, Tara Knowles. Chibs, knowing the boy’s complicated life, decided to swipe his slate. His explanation?  
  
“Ya fuck up under me, and I’ll blow your fuckin’ head off, Juicy.”  
  
Juice was more than willing to rejoin the club with his mentor, and promised he would make things right, including a routine check and paperwork from a clinic proving his blood work was clean. Anything to make Chibs trust him. He had redeemed himself in the eyes of the club, and was now slowly becoming a respected member.  
Quinn and Ratboy finished the table, Quinn to Juice’s left and Ratboy to Tig’s right. Chibs looked across the once full table. They were missing Allesandro Montez and T.O. Cross, who were currently working at Teller-Morrow Automotive in place of the Tellers and Clay Morrow, and Jax Teller, who had bestowed the title of President to Chibs and had walked away with his children, Abel and Thomas, to live the life he had promised his late wife they would have, as well has mend some broken pieces with ex-wife Wendy Case. Business with TM was currently being sorted by club friend, Nero Padilla.  
The members of SAMCRO waited, standing behind their chairs with eager eyes on Chibs. His eyes met each members’. Happy gave him a slight nod, Juice, a boyish smile, and Quinn, Ratboy, and Tig, watched him in anticipation. Chibs pulled the chair where his mentor had sat, and where the little blonde Teller boy had once sat, and without hesitation, took the throne. Chuck Marstein, the club’s bookkeeper, entered just in time to see Chibs take a seat, a tray of Jack and five shot glasses balanced on one hand. As soon as Chibs was seated, the crew erupted in loud clapping and hollering, and Chibs gave them a sideways smile. Tig clapped and looked over to Chuck, who was smiling as well.  
  
“Chuckie, bring that shit over here!” he hollered.  
  
Chuck obeyed without response and walked in between the VP and Ratboy, setting the tray on the table and proceeding to pour the shots. Tig helped and they passed the shots around.  
  
“Give me the goddamn bottle, will ya?” Chibs asked.  
  
Tig laughed and passed the bottle to the President. The boys held their glasses up as Tig began the toast.  
  
“Alright,” he said loudly, then looked down at Chibs, “To you, you lucky asshole.”  
  
Chibs laughed.  
  
“To Chibs!” the others declared, and they toasted their glasses to Chibs’ bottle before downing their drinks and slamming the glasses on the wooden table top.  
  
Chibs chugged the Jack before letting out a contented “Ah!” and setting the bottle down.  
  
“Someone take that away from me,” he said.  
  
Happy took the bottle and passed it back to Chuck.  
  
“We’re proud of you, man,” Juice spoke up.  
  
Tig lightly punched Chibs shoulder as the crew began to sit down.  
  
“You, man,” he agreed, “We owe ya big time.”  
  
Chibs shrugged.  
  
“Just doin’ what shoulda been done a _long_ time ago,” he replied.  
  
“Damn straight!” Happy agreed.  
  
Chibs smiled at that.  
  
“Chuckie, take this shit out of here, will ya?” Tig asked.  
  
Chuck nodded, gathered the glasses and the bottle of Jack Daniels, and Tig patted his back as he left the room, leaving the remaining members of SAMCRO to their meeting.  
  
“As much as I would like to get the hell outta here and get drunk, we have some business to attend to,” Chibs announced.  
  
The boys settled down and their attention went to the President.  
  
“As you all know, I’ve been workin’ my fuckin’ fingers bone to set shit straight. I think, as of today, everything is clear. Juicey Boy, what do ya got on the Feds? ATF? All that bullshit?”  
  
Juice sat forward.  
  
“As far as I can tell, we’re all good. I went through their databases, and from the looks of it, they have no suspicions. No claims. We’re good,” he replied.  
  
The boys shouted in victory. Chibs nodded.  
  
“How about the Mayans and Diosa?” he asked.  
  
“Everything's settled,” Happy replied.  
  
Chibs looked to Tig.  
  
“We’re out of drugs. Out of the dirty. SAMCRO’s relations with everyone else is golden, bro,” he said.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“Well, as far as the Kings go, we're clear,” he said, “We have Red Woody. No more shit between anyone. As of today, SAMCRO is the green.”  
  
The boys shouted again.  
  
“The only issue on our plates seems to be new recruits. We need to expand the table. Strengthen the club,” he continued.  
  
“Yeah,” Tig agreed, “No fucking Nomads either.”  
  
Chibs shook his head.  
  
“No, we need fresh meat,” Happy said, with a sickening smile that made Tig’s lip curl and Chibs shoot the Sergeant at Arms a glare, an eyebrow raised.  
  
“Raise ‘em as Prospects?” Juice asked, breaking the tension.  
  
“No shit!” Tig popped off.  
  
“Aye, Juice,” Chibs replied.  
  
“I know a couple of kids. Clean kids. Just motorcycle enthusiasts,” Quinn spoke up.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“Get ‘em here, and we’ll see what we have to work with,” he said.  
  
Quinn nodded.  
  
“I don’t know of any freshies,” Tig said.  
  
“We’ll find ‘em,” Chibs replied, “But in the meantime, who wants to go get hammered?”  
  
The boys hollered. Chibs smiled.  
  
“Let’s go!” he said excitedly, and slammed the gavel down, ending the meeting.  
  
He braced himself to stand when Tig reached out and touched his chest to stop him from moving any further.  
  
“Nah-ah! Not so fast!” he said.  
  
Chibs was momentarily confused.  
  
“We’re not letting you get away that easily. Not on our brother’s birthday,” he said lowly.  
  
Chibs unceremoniously sat back down.  
  
“Ah, for Christ’s sake!” he exclaimed.  
  
Chibs was never one for attention, and on his birthday, all he ever wanted to do was have a nice, semi-normal, drunken night. Of course, there was a time or two where the boys would buy each other rounds or take one or the other out to shoot targets. Race their bikes. Gemma used to bake them cakes before shit hit the fan. They were good times, but Chibs craved a pleasant, slow night this time. Tig, and apparently the entire crew, had other plans for their brother.  
  
“Oh, come on! None of that!” Tig scolded, “Come on. Let’s head down to Diosa. Get you some birthday pussy. Come on! It’s on me.”  
  
Chibs rolled his eyes, but found himself laughing.  
  
“I appreciate the gesture,” he began.  
  
Tig held his arms out, a smirk on his face.  
  
“What are friends for, man?”  
  
Chibs smiled and shook his head.  
  
“I have a better idea,” he said.  
  
Tig stared at him in shock.  
  
“What’s better than free pussy?” he asked, genuinely appalled that Chibs would turn down an appointment at Diosa.  
  
It was Chibs’ turn to smirk.  
  
“Let’s all just jump on our bikes and hit the road,” he replied.  
  
“Where to?” Juice asked.  
  
Chibs shrugged.  
  
“Wherever the road takes us,” he replied.  
  
Tig scoffed.  
  
“You would rather ride than go to Diosa?” he asked.  
  
Chibs nodded. Tig let out a small grunt.  
  
“What the fuck? Man, I heard they got this girl. Killer, most mind-blowing, fuckin’ blow—“  
  
“Man, I just want one night of just bikes and the road,” Chibs interrupted, “Our first night of freedom. Let’s all just go hit the road. Do what we love the most.”  
  
Tig weighed his options.  
  
“You can pay for my gas. That can be my birthday present,” Chibs said.  
  
Tig nodded. Hitting the road, winding down and forgetting the world did sound like a good idea.  
  
“‘Kay. I’m in,” he said.  
  
“Us, too, brother,” Happy agreed.  
  
Tig clapped loudly and jumped from his seat.  
  
“Then let’s go! Oh wait! We can’t go too far. I have a date,” he announced.  
  
The crew stood up. Chibs pushed his chair in and shot his right-hand man a look.  
  
“A date?” he questioned.  
  
Tig shrugged.  
  
“With Venus,” he replied, eyes wide and innocent.  
  
Chibs smiled and rolled his eyes.  
  
“Oh, Tiggy,” he sighed, then threw an arm around Tig’s shoulders as they followed the crew out the door.  
  
“Hey! You’re the crazy one. I offer to buy you a good time. You must be gettin’ old, man,” Tig complained.  
  
Chibs just laughed.  
  
“Whatever. I still love ya, man,” Tig said, then kissed Chibs on the cheek.  
  
Chibs laughed and shoved the slightly taller man away.  
  
“Get on ya damn bike. Let’s go!” Chibs shouted.  
  
It wasn’t that he did not like Diosa, but the road was calling him. It was just something he felt like he needed. However, he didn’t know that the cravings he was having for a late-night ride through the rural areas outside of Charming would play out in the cards tonight.


	2. Trouble on the Hill

It had been a fairly pleasant day for December in Southern California. Not a cloud in the sky. The temperature just about 60 degrees. It was a beautiful day, and a perfect start to my two day trip to Washington. Warm enough to be out in the elements, but still, a little too windy to go without full gear on a bike. I suppose, if I was smart, I would drive the two days, since I absolutely refused to fly, but there’s just something about hopping on a motorcycle and hitting the road that was far more attractive than just buckling up and driving. Besides the crisp winter wind, it was perfect weather for a ride up to Washington.  
My half-way point was Sacramento, CA, where there was promise of food and a hotel room, and my back was beginning to ache as I traveled through the mountainous highways outside of Stockton. It was late, almost nine, and the only lights were the bright moon, the small town ahead of me, and the lights on my bike. The rest of the world was dark and sleepy, and my eyelids felt heavy. There were hardly any vehicles on the road. In the last hour, the only moving thing I had seen was a semi carrying soda. Nothing else. No cars. No delivery trucks. Not even any signs of livestock. There was nothing out here, and as calming as it was, it was also a little unnerving. I felt like the only person left on the planet. I often felt like this, especially on my bike. Most people liked to ride with friends. I rode alone. Hell, I often worked alone. Loneliness was always there, but only now, on my own on the highway, did I really start to feel it.  
I sighed as I revved my bike and sped up a hill. Maybe I would just go ahead and stop in the next town. Get up an hour earlier than planned. Anything to rest my eyes. I decided that as soon as I found a decent motel, I would check in.  
As I made it to the top of the steep hill, a light shined behind me, and I could hear the familiar rumbling of a speeding motorcycle. I groaned and sped up as fast as gravity would allow me. It sounded like an impatient douchebag rounding the bend. I kept my eyes forward, paying no mind. It was illegal to pass up here, but with no traffic, he could pass by me and be on his way. All I had to do was keep focused.  
The motorcycle behind me slowed down, following me at the speed limit. It was then I began to get nervous. Just go around me! Who cares?  
Before I could get too nervous, the motorcycle sped up. I assumed he was preparing to go around me, but I was wrong. He sped up, clipping the back wheel of my bike and completely throwing me off balance as my bike tried to shook out from under me at the hill’s peak. I lost complete control and ran off the road and into the dirt. I managed to jump clear, my bike flying off in the other direction and my backpack hitting the dirt beside me as I rolled, my helmet falling off in the process. I gritted my teeth and reached into the pocket of my leather jacket for my gun, ignoring the searing pain from hitting the rocks. I jumped up to my feet and pointed my gun at the guy. It was at this time a sea of lights sped up the hill, coming from the direction of the town. Just in time to see a show.  
I shot at the guy, but he shot back. I backed up and accidentally tripped over a large rock, falling onto my back and losing my gun. The guy came after me, and I bolted. I had no idea what this asshole’s beef was, and at the moment, I didn’t care. I climbed to my feet and took off into the night. I didn’t get very far before I felt brutal pain rip into my hip. Unable to run, I fell, and my vision went blurry. I saw nothing more except the silhouette of a tall man walking towards me, then nothing at all.

***

There was nothing out there. Nothing except the moon, stars, and the sound of engines and wind in Chibs’ ears. The air was sharp against his face, and the cool air stung his nose, but this was nothing. He was a seasoned biker. He was used to it. The road was his second home, and his motorcycle, a mechanical part of his body. No, none of this was unfamiliar territory. This was well loved territory, and surrounded by his crew, who were just laughing, screwing around, and enjoying themselves, there was nothing better. As far as he was concerned, this was the perfect birthday present.

“Yo, Chibs!” Juice called over the wind.

Chibs glanced to his right to see Juice pull up beside him.

“We got incoming,” Juice called, and pointed ahead.

Chibs looked out ahead. Two lights, undoubtedly from a pair of motorcycles, unless one or the other was a vehicle with a busted headlight, emerged at the top of the hill.

“What do ya want us to do?” Tig called from behind Juice.

Chibs shook his head.

“Just drive on. Unless, of course, they start somethin’,” he replied.

Juice nodded. Chibs returned his eyes to the road. He knew that anyone, friend or foe, or just simply strangers, could be coming their way, and he prepared to reach into his pocket and grab his gun—an old habit from rolling with Teller men. He kept his eyes on the lights, and when he saw the second motorcycle tailing dangerously close to the first, he knew something was about to go down.  
That’s when it happened. He saw the first bike go out of control and fly off the road, its rider momentarily airborne as the second bike whipped around.

“Shit!” Chibs shouted.

“Let’s go!” Juice shouted, and with that, they shot up the hill.

Tig sped ahead of the crew, gun in hand, and drove straight for the second rider, who had dismounted his bike. Chibs and the rest circle the strange guy, and Tig, noticing a gun in the guy’s hand, shot him in the knee, taking the guy down. Chibs quickly parked his bike on the shoulder of the highway and pointed his gun at the guy.

“Get down, ya piece of shit!” he growled.

The guy cowered. Juice, Quinn, Happy, and Ratboy had their guns drawn, ready to shoot.

“Where are you from, man?” Tig asked, gritting his teeth.

The guy lifted his face. He was definitely Latino.

“Fuck off!” the man shouted.

Tig hissed and pressed his gun to the guy’s head.

“Where the hell are you from? Who are you with?” he yelled.

Juice observed the scene, spotting a wrecked sports bike, but no rider. He walked farther off the road and spotted a black form laying motionless in the dirt. It was unclear whether the form was male or female, or if they were breathing, but Juice could see the blood in the dirt.

“Chibs! Dude, you gotta get over here!” Juice called.

Chibs looked up to see Juice peering over a rock at something in the dirt. He lowered his gun and waved to Quinn, gesturing for him to follow.

“You three don’t let him move,” he ordered to Tig, Ratboy, and Happy.

“You got it, boss,” Happy said.

Tig curled his lip and pressed the metal deeper into the man’s skin.

“Yeah, you ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he said, his tone menacing.

Chibs and Quinn jogged over to Juice to see the motionless body in the dirt. Chibs cautiously moved to the body and examined it. The form was small, dressed in black skinny jeans and a leather jacket. The face was pale and feminine, blood dripping into the eyebrows. Chibs leaned down and carefully turned the body over, revealing a small woman with a gunshot wound to the hit and a bang to the head.

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned.

Juice watched over worriedly.

“Is she alive?” he asked.

Chibs reached up and pressed his first two fingers to the woman’s neck, feeling for a pulse. He did indeed feel one, and it felt regular, but a little weak.

“Aye, but just barely,” he replied.

He looked over his shoulder where Tig had the guy at gunpoint.

“Take him out, Tig,” he ordered.

Tig cocked his gun.

“You sure?” he asked.

Chibs nodded. He had a feeling this had nothing to do with clubs, as the woman and the man were not wearing colors. He was sure the guy had probably followed her, and this was most likely heading towards a rape situation. Chicks on bikes alone in rural Charming? Not always cool as shit. He was glad they had showed up to save her from any further harm. Besides, you don’t shoot the fairer sex, even when they are truly wicked.

“Yeah,” Chibs replied.

Tig shrugged and shot the guy in the head. Juice cringed and they watched the guy fall to the ground in a heap. Tig smiled.

“And that’s the way the cookie crumbles,” he said.

Chibs turned his attention back to the woman and attempted to examine her wounds, but it was too dark to see.

“Fuckin’ prick,” he growled.

“What should we do? We can’t leave her here,” Juice said.

Chibs nodded. He wouldn’t dream of leaving her out here. It was started to get pretty cold, and she was at serious risk for infection.

“Check that bastard’s ink, Tiggy,” Chibs called over his shoulder.

Tig nodded, and Happy helped him check the guy for any signs of gang or club tattoos.

“Juice, call Montez and T.O. Let 'em know what happened. Have Montez bring the truck out here and pick up her bike. Take it back to TM. You stay out here ‘till he arrives and scan the area for anything they may have fallen off the bike. Tig and I will take her to Red Woody. Get her cleaned up. Happy?”

“Yeah?” Happy asked.

“Get rid of the body. Take Rat and Quinn with you,” Chibs replied.

“You got it,” Quinn replied, giving the President a thumbs-up.

Chibs turned back to the woman below and examined the gunshot wound on her hip. It was not bleeding heavily, but he took a bandana from his jacket pocket and packed it in the woman’s jeans, just to protect the wound and stop the bleeding until he could properly tend to it. Tig approached and bent over, picking up a backpack covered in various keychains and patches. Juice looked at the VP questioningly.

“Must be hers,” Tig said to the younger man.

Juice nodded. Tig swung the bag over his shoulder. Juice looked down to the woman and Chibs.

“How are you going to get her back, man?” Juice asked.

“What do ya mean?” Tig asked.

“Well, you know. Without her falling,” he replied.

Chibs looked up at Juice and smirked.

“We’ll strap down on the hood like a deer,” Tig replied sarcastically, “What the hell do you think?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never taken a shit-faced girl home before, Juicey Boy,” Chibs said.

Juice shook his head. Chibs smiled and scooped the woman up.

“How wild did you get back in the day?” Juice asked.

Chibs stood with the woman and snorted.

“Shut up and find any bike pieces. After Montez comes by, come back to Red Woody,” he ordered.

Juice nodded.

“I’m on it,” he replied, then turned on his heel and walked over to the totaled bike.

Tig looked down at the unconscious woman.

“The guy had a couple of prison tats, but nothing that would suggest anything gang related,” he said to Chibs.

Chibs nodded.

“He was probably some kind of stalker or somethin’,” he said.

Tig nodded in agreement.

“You think she’s gonna be okay?” he asked.

They walked over to Chibs’ bike and Tig helped him set her in the seat.

“We’ll see when we get back. Follow close,” Chibs replied.

Tig nodded. Chibs sat in his seat and reached around to take the girl’s hands. Tig helped him get her arms wrapped around him, and put his own helmet on the girl, just in case her limp form threw Chibs off balance and they laid the bike down. He didn’t want her to hurt her head any more than it already was. He leaned her against the Reaper stitched to Chibs’ back and balanced her. Chibs put her hands in his pockets.

“Here goes nothin’,” he said.

Tig laughed and patted his back.

“I’ll be right behind ya,” he said.

Chibs nodded, and with that, they took off back to Charming as Happy, Quinn, and Ratboy headed out of town with the body, leaving Juice to keep on eye on the bikes and wait for Montez.

***

When Chibs and Tig returned to Red Woody, Tig carried the woman inside while Chibs went after their medical supplies. Tig took the woman to one of the leather couches near the bar and laid her on her back. Chibs grabbed anything he thought he might need and entered the room. Tig straightened up and watched him, ready for his next order.

“You got everything?” he asked.

Chibs nodded.

“Yeah. Just go get me a stool and a bottle of water. Then I want you to wait on Montez and Juice,” he ordered.

“You don’t want any help?” Tig asked.

The VP was being genuine, as he wanted the poor woman to live as much as the others, but knowing how Tig was, and knowing he was going to have to partially unclothe the woman to access her wound, Chibs thought it best to work on his own.

“I’ll call you if I need you. Go on,” he replied.

Tig shrugged and turned on his heel, retrieved the stool and water, then walked out of the room. Chibs sat down beside the woman and opened the first aid kid in his lap. He pulled out a packet of cotton rounds and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. As he held the box and sorted through it, he looked up at the woman. She was young, and he guessed that she had to be around Juice’s age. She had an innocent face, and had she not had signs of stress on her skin, she would have looked no older than 15. Her hair, though dirty from her fall and greasy from being cooped up in a helmet, was shorter than his and black. One side seemed to fall longer than the other. She had no piercings to speak of, just a gentle face with a familiar innocence that he had seen Juice express. He sighed and carefully pulled her jacket off, then unbuckled the studded belt around her waist, pulled the bloodied bandana from her jeans, and set to work tending to her wounds.  
When Juice and Montez returned, Juice went in to check on the woman and update Chibs on the bike. Chibs was sitting beside the woman, watching her as she rested. Juice entered slowly, not wanting to spook Chibs as he silently looked on, deep in thought.

“Hey,” Juice murmured.

The President looked up and his expression softened. Juice approached and pushed his hands into his pockets as he looked the woman over. She looked a little better, now that she was patched up and Chibs had wiped the dirt and blood away from her face and arms.

“She gonna be okay?” Juice asked.

Chibs nodded as he removed his latex gloves, which were stained with her drying blood.

“Yeah. She’ll be in a lot of pain, but I have something that will take the edge off. The bullet seemed to graze her hip. All she needed was stitches. She’ll be golden before too long,” he explained.

Juice nodded.

“She’s a beautiful girl,” he said.

Chibs tossed the soiled gloves up onto the bar and nodded.

“Yeah, she is,” he said softly.

Juice was not lying. A lot of beautiful women had come their way and passed through their lives, and many had caught their eyes, but this poor woman had struck Chibs. As he worked on her, he thought about how they had found her, how she seemed to be a motorcycle girl (a quality he was particularly fond of), and imagined what she looked like awake and healthy. One thought that passed through his mind as he was tending to her head wound, was that he knew she must have a beautiful smile. This thought made him briefly smile to himself, before it was replaced with blinding rage. She was just an innocent girl, probably trying to make it home, and some random asshole just jumped her for no other reason, other than to most likely get his rocks off. Probably kill her. She was lucky they had found her, and Chibs fond himself quickly becoming protective of her. He wanted her story. Who knows? Maybe she would make a good addition to the club?  
Chibs quickly shook that thought. He was getting ahead of himself.

“Did she have any I.D.?” Juice asked.

Chibs shook his head.

“Tiggy said he checked her bag. I checked her pockets. Nothing,” he replied.

This worried Juice.

“You think she was on the run and someone came after her?” he asked.

Chibs shrugged.

“It’s highly unlikely,” he replied.

“That's good," Juice said.

Chibs stood from the stool and pulled the heavy blanket he had found over the woman’s body.

“I want you to keep an eye on her, Juicey. Stay here, watch her. Make sure she has everything she needs.”

Juice nodded.

“I will,” he promised.

Tig entered the room and glanced down at the woman.

“She good?” he asked.

Chibs nodded.

“Couple of stitches. Nothin’ major,” he replied.

Tig nodded.

“How’s her bike?” Chibs asked.

Tig made a “tsk” sound with his tongue.

“It’s in bad shape. I mean, we can fix it, but some of the parts are going to have to be ordered, man. It’s not gonna be cheap,” he warned.

Chibs nodded thoughtfully.

“Don’t worry about price. Just get it done,” he replied, “I’ll pay for it.”

Tig raised an eyebrow at him.

“You serious?” he asked.

Chibs smirked.

“Does it look like I’m fuckin’ playin’?” he asked.

Tig smiled. Chibs gave Tig a friendly slap on the shoulder.

“I’m gonna head out to the woods. Check on the boys,” he said, beginning to leave before spinning back around, “Oh! And no damn funny business with her, Juicey Boy!”

Juice laughed and gave him a thumbs-up.

“You got it, boss,” he replied.

Chibs winked and turned around, leaving Tig and Juice watching after him.

“Something tells me he’s got it for that girl,” Tig said, hands on his hips.

Juice snorted.

“What? He’s getting all protective and paying for her bike,” Tig said, his voice raising in pitch.

Juice smiled and shook his head.

“He’s just being nice, man. I think it’s a little premature to think he has the hots for her,” he replied.

Tig shot Juice a look before smirking.

“You would know all about prematurity, wouldn’t ya?” he asked.

Juice rolled his eyes. Tig laughed and patted his back.

“Let’s go look at that bike and take inventory. Come on,” Tig said.

Juice just nodded and followed his VP out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave some love! Thanks for reading.


	3. A Warm Welcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tig and Venus make a few decisions, and our victim meets her rescuers.

It was closing in on midnight when Tig rolled into the driveway, parking beside his girlfriend’s silver car. She knew he would be back late, and even though she was a bit upset about their date being cancelled, she could not be upset about the reason. She understood, and had stayed up to wait for Tig’s return.  
Tig walked in through the front door, finding some of the lights still on and the sound of the TV coming from the living room.

“Venus?” he called, “Baby, I’m home!”

Venus Van Dam, as she went by these days, looked up from her cell phone to the hallway.

“I’m in here, baby,” she called.

Tig shrugged his cut from his shoulders as he shuffled into the living room. Venus was lounging in his recliner, her hair pulled into a ponytail, face bare, wearing baby blue pajama bottoms and a revealing lacy, white tank top. When she saw Tig into the room, she set her phone down and quickly stood to greet him.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she said.

Tig smiled at her Southern drawl. It calmed him, and it was beautiful to hear after such a crazy night.

“Hey, baby,” he said softly.

Venus smiled as he pressed his lips to hers.

“Look, I’m real sorry about breaking off our date—“

Venus shook her head and pressed her perfectly manicured hand to his chest.

“Honey, don’t you worry about a thing. Unlike most women, I can understand. Come sit down. Let me help you relax,” she said.

Venus took Tig’s hand and led him to the sofa. Tig smiled smugly.

“Mmm, yes, ma’am,” he replied.

Venus smiled and they sat together on the cushions. Venus took Tig’s boots off and scooted them underneath the coffee table. Tig leaned back and let her. He was perfectly capable of removing his own boots, but he liked the attention. Besides, he did the same for her.

“You spoil me,” Tig said.

Venus smiled.

“Anything for you, my sweet Alexander,” she said, then leaned over and pecked his lips, “Did you have a hard night?”

Tig shrugged. Venus laid her head on his shoulder and laid her hand on his chest. Tig wound an arm around her waist.

“Nah, not hard. Just crazy. I’m sure it wasn’t the sort of birthday Chibs was expecting,” he replied.

Venus raised her head and gritted her teeth.

“Was he upset?” she asked.

Tig shook his head.

“I don’t think so. It could have ended badly, but we saved the day,” he replied.

Venus smiled up at him.

“What happened out there? On the phone, you said something about a wreck. Was that right?” she asked.

Tig sighed.

“Yeah. You know that hill outside of town?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Chibs insisted on going for a late night ride for his birthday, so we rode out. We were having a good time and all of sudden, two bikes come up over the hill. Apparently this asshole was trailing this girl, threw her off the road.”

Venus stared at Tig in horror.

“Oh my goodness!”

“We don’t think it had anything to do with any clubs. Just some guy with…bad intentions. Shot her. We caught him before he could do any serious damage. Juice found her unconscious. Chibs and I took her back to Red Woody, patched her up. Juice and Montez brought her bike back to TM,” he explained.

“What about the guy who shot her?” Venus asked.

Tig looked down at her and smirked.

“What do you think?” he asked.

Venus smiled.

“You sweet, sweet man,” she sighed.

Tig laughed.

“Chibs went out to check on the boys. Make sure they get rid of that scumbag. Juice is staying with the girl.”

Venus nodded.

“I’m so glad you guys saved her,” she said, “In the morning, we’ll go up there and check in. Besides, I made a cake for dear, sweet Filip.”

Tig grinned.

“He won’t take it. You know how he is about birthday gifts,” he replied.

Venus smirked and stroked Tig’s chin.

“We’ll see. For now, though,” she crawled into Tig’s lap, long legs straddling his thighs.

Tig’s eyes widened.

“How about we go to the bedroom, Tiger?” she asked.

Tig’s eyes darkened.

“Right behind you, beautiful.”

***

I opened my eyes to see a bright light above me. At first, I thought it was the sun, but as I gathered my bearings, I realized the light was simply a hanging lamp. I looked down to see that I was not on the gravel I had fallen in, but rather, a soft leather couch with a wool blanket over me. Panic immediately settled in. Where the hell am I? Is this a dream? It felt too real to be a dream. How did I get here? Fuck! Did that guy kidnap me?  
I tried to turn over, but a stabbing pain ripped through my leg, keeping me down. I hissed and laid my head back. When my head hit the limp pillow, my forehead felt like it had split open.

“Fuck!” I hissed.

I reached up grab my head, and felt a swollen place with rough edges that made my stomach roll. Stitches.  
I looked around, trying to figure out where the hell I was. The room looked almost like a warehouse. In fact, I believe it was at one time. I couldn't see much, but nearby was a bar.  
I tilted my head and my heart dropped to my stomach. On a barstool was a leather cut, a familiar grim reaper carrying a bloody scythe staring at me. I blinked a few times, making sure I was not hallucinating. When the reaper was still there, I knew that this was not a dream. The question was, how?

“Hey, you’re awake.”

I jumped and looked in the direction of the voice. A man approached me. Young guy, bald with tribal head tattoos. Soft facial features. Gray v-neck and jeans. He looked harmless enough, but I knew better than to trust looks.

“Who the hell are you?” I snapped.

This could be the guy that nearly killed me.

The guy stopped and held his hands up.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re the good guys. I won’t hurt you,” he said, smiling.

I glared at him.

“And I’m supposed to fucking believe that?” I growled.

The guy smiled and approached me.

“We found you on the side of the highway unconscious. Brought you back here and stitched you up. Don’t worry. You’re safe here,” he said.

He walked around the pool table and sat down on a stool beside me.

“Where’s here?” I asked nervously.

He gestured to the room.

“Charming, California. Welcome to Red Woody Productions,” he said.

I felt my eyes widen.

“You're…Sons of Anarchy?” I asked.

He smiled and nodded.

“Yeah. You know of us?” he asked.

I felt my eyes dart around. Who didn’t know about SAMCRO? After the previous years’ events, the entire state knew about the Sons of Anarchy, the IRA, and several other M/Cs that were thrown into the mix. To most, this was new news, but I had known about SAMCRO for…well, some time now. IRA, Mayans, SAMBEL, and a few other Northern Cali clubs. The reaper was a familiar symbol to me. Of course, how it became familiar was a long story.

“Um, yeah,” I replied, “Seen you guys on the news a couple of times.”

He smiled.

“Yeah, we were pretty popular there for a while,” he agreed.

I nodded.

“I’m Juice, by the way,” he said, offering his hand.

I reached up and shook it.

“Callie,” I replied.

He nodded.

“Callie,” he repeated, “Are you from around here?”

I shook my head.

“No,” I replied, “Just…on my way. Off to hibernate for the winter.”

I wasn’t sure if I could trust this Juice kid. He seemed nice enough, and with the bullshit that had gone on with this club, I had always sided with them, but still. Didn’t want to unveil too much.

“Yeah,” he said, “Well, we picked up your bike. It’s in bad shape, but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

I sighed and nodded.

“Thank-you,” I said, “How bad is the damage? I mean, on me.”

Juice shrugged.

“Just a few stitches, I believe. The bullet never entered. Just grazed you,” he replied.

I nodded.

“Who stitched me up?” I asked.

Juice smiled.

“Our Prez,” he replied.

I stared at him in horror.

“God! Not that Teller kid!” I exclaimed.

Juice laughed.

“No, no. He resigned a while back,” he replied.

I sighed in relief. From the information I had gathered on this particular charter, it was clear Jackson Teller was an idiot, and I would never in a million years trust him with a needle and human flesh.

“But, you’re in safe hands,” he continued.

I just nodded. Exhaustion was beginning to creep back up, and all I wanted to do was rest my eyes.

“When can I talk to your new President?” I asked.

“Tomorrow. They’ll be back in the morning,” he replied.

I nodded and looked up at the lamp above me.

“‘Kay,” I said tiredly.

Juice clapped his hands against his jeans and rubbed them.

“Is there anything I could get you? Anything you need? Water?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Yeah, sure,” I replied quickly.

Juice gave me a small smile and stood.

“One water coming up,” he announced.

I turned my head and watched him walk away to the bar. My mind was having a hell of a time processing this. I didn’t expect this. I wasn’t prepared. My plan was to leave. No pit stops. I just wanted out. Never had I imagined this would happen, and I was never meant to come this close to these guys.  
I pressed my hands to my eyes. Fuck this.

“Hey,” Juice said.

I removed my hands from my eyes and looked up at him, worried brown eyes watching me.

“You okay?” he asked.

I swallowed and nodded. Juice tilted his head to the side, concern written on his face.

“‘Kay,” he replied softly, and handed me a cold bottle of water.

“Thank-you,” I said, my voice just above a whisper.

Juice gave me a small smile.

“Get some rest. The rest of the guys will be by in the morning. If you need me, just call,” he said.

I nodded.

“‘Night, Callie,” he said.

I gave him a weak smile and opened my water bottle.

“Goodnight, Juice,” I replied.

Juice leaned over and flipped a switch on the wall, shutting off the bright lamp. He then left me in silence, with only the light above the bar to keep my company. I pressed the cold bottle to my head and settled down, but sleep would not come. I had no mode of transportation. No way to get to Washington. I only had one way out of Charming. Well, two. A bus, or call a friend from home to take me back. I had not planned on ever returning, though. Not again.

I had not realized that I had fallen asleep, but I woke up in pain, much worse than how it was when I spoke to Juice. I awoke to throbbing pain, a quiet room, with the faint thundering of motorcycles in the background, and sunlight streaming in from the window above the couch. I yawned and rubbed the sleep from my eye before slowly rolling onto my back. The water bottle, which I had only sipped a little from and had used as an ice pack, was now warm from being trapped underneath me all night. I picked it up and let it slip to the floor with a soft thud.

“Morning,” a voice spoke.

I jumped, pain ripping through me, and looked over to see a guy in jeans, blue button up, and a cut walking towards me. He held his hands up.

“Hey, easy, sweetheart. No one’s gonna hurt ya,” he said.

I studied the guy, noticing a large knife sheathed and dangling from his hip. He was a tall guy, much larger than Juice, with crazy, curly dark hair and the brightest blue eyes I had ever seen in my life. I studied the patches on his cut, and noticed the V. President patch. So this wasn’t the guy that stitched me up.

“Who are you?” I asked.

He smiled.

“Name’s Tig. Chibs is gonna come in and check your stitches in a minute. I just wanted to see if you were up. You took a pretty hard fall last night,” he said.

I remained quiet. Unlike Juice, who had a very sweet demeanor, this guy was absolutely intimidating. He didn’t come off as mean or anything, just scary.  
The door opened and a guy, almost as tall as this Tig guy, with long, dark brown hair with streaks of gray, black hoodie, jeans with a chain on his hip, and matching cut entered the room. He glanced over at me and smiled.

“Good morning, darlin’,” he spoke, “Callie, right?”

I cleared my throat.

“Um, yeah,” I replied.

The guy walked over to the cabinets over the bar and reached inside for a white box. Tig looked over his shoulder at the man.

“Juice took good care of her,” he said, “I was just coming in to see if she was up.”

The other man nodded. He walked over to me, and I was able to get a better look at him. My eyes went straight to the scars on his face. He had a deep crescent on the side of his mouth, and when he turned another jagged line ran straight from his mouth to his ear. A nasty Glasgow Smile. However, my eyes didn’t stay focused on the scars. Regardless of them, he was a good looking guy. Soft, tired brown eyes, wrinkles decorated around his eyes, making him look older than I’m sure he was. Mustache and goatee matching his brown and gray hair, gentle features. By the sound of his voice, he was definitely European.

“You the Prez?” I asked.

He pulled on a pair of latex gloves.

“Aye,” he replied, “Chibs.”

I narrowed my eyes. These bikers and their nicknames.

“You a licensed medical professional?” I asked, suspicious of him.

He smiled.

“Sweetheart, I used to work as a medic for the British Army. Not to mention, I’ve been keepin’ these fuckers alive for years,” he replied.

Definitely Scottish. Low, gruff, thick Scottish accent.

“It’s true,” Tig said, “How many times have you had to stitch up my ass?”

I had to laugh at that.

“Too many,” Chibs replied.

Tig smiled.

“You’re in good hands, darling,” he said.

I looked from Tig to Chibs.

“I just want to check your dressin’. Make sure everything is good and there’s no infection,” he said.

I nodded. Chibs looked over his shoulder to Tig.

“Out with you,” he ordered.

“Man, I’m not gonna—“

“Do you not understand English?” Chibs snapped.

Tig laughed.

“I’m gone!” he said, then left the room.

Chibs opened the first aid kit and shook his head.

“Thought you may want a little more privacy,” he said.

I just smiled and thanked him. He instructed me to lay on my left and pull the blanket down so he could check my hip. I carefully lifted the waistband of my jeans and panties and pulled them over the dressing on my hip. It looked like a professional had applied it. I turned my head and watched as he pulled the surgical tape and lifted the soiled bandage, revealing puffy, red, stitched skin. I cringed and looked away, immediately feeling dizzy.

“God,” I breathed out.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Chibs said, “It’s a little irritated.”

“Dude, I don’t mean to be rude, but please just…don’t talk about it. I’ll barf on your couch,” I said.

Chibs chuckled.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he replied, “Let’s get your mind off of it.”

I nodded. I felt him apply cold moisture to the stitches. It numbed the pain a little.

“Where are ya from?” he asked.

I cleared my throat and tried to focus.

“Um, the Los Angeles area,” I replied.

Chibs whistled.

“That’s a long ways from here. What brings ya to Charmin’?” he asked.

I closed my eyes as he dabbed a cotton ball to the wound.

“Yeah,” I replied quietly, “I’m just passing through.”

I heard Chibs opening a package. I assumed it was new dressing.

“Where ya headed?” he asked.

I opened my eyes. I guess it didn’t matter if I told him.

“Seattle,” I replied quietly.

“Ah,” he replied, applying the dressing, “Goin’ up there for the holidays?”

I nodded.

“Something like that,” I said.

Chibs looked up at me, concerned. He seemed like he wanted to ask, but he said nothing about it.

“Can you roll onto your back for me? Slowly,” he asked.

I carefully moved onto my back. Chibs grabbed a pillow and slipped it under me, taking pressure off of my hip.

“There ya go,” he said.

I relaxed into the couch as he scooted up and checked the cut on my head.

“You have family up in Seattle?” he asked, dabbing a little antiseptic onto a cotton ball.

I remained quiet for a moment, watching his hands move above my face. I wanted to say yes, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Not anymore,” I said, my emotions betraying me.

Chibs paused and looked down at me, a piece of brown and silver hair defying him and falling around his face. He furrowed his eyebrows and watched me, studying me. I tried to remain impassive, but when you have been working yourself—your emotions…when you have been battling them alone for so long, you immediately want to spill to the first person who treats you with any kind of kindness. I knew better, but the temptation to open my mouth was pretty strong. I was able to keep it in, but my eyes and voice had other plans.  
Chibs broke eye contact and moved to grab some gauze.

“You um, have a home up there?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“No,” I replied, my voice just barely above a whisper.

Chibs looked down at me worriedly.

“I may be wrong,” he said, “but sounds to me like it would be a lonely vacation without family or a place to go to.”

I swallowed thickly. Chibs gave me a small smile and taped a small piece of gauze over my stitches. I didn’t like this. Not the situation, but him. The tone of his voice, though deep and rough, was nothing less of caring, as were his eyes. I knew this club had changed since the change in leadership, they did good for the people of this town. I didn’t fear Chibs, or Juice and Tig, for that matter. I rarely feared motorcycle clubs unless they were known for evil. Pure, malicious cruelty. That was not SAMCRO. I knew that. They cared about their own, their community, and fellow bikers…like me, I suppose. However, this President…he seemed to be a gown to earth guy. Kind hearted. Fatherly to these guys. All qualities anyone should appreciate. Just not me. The last thing in the world I wanted was someone to give a shit. Not right now. Not…just not now.

“Or, is it just the kind of vacation ya need?” he asked, “Gettin’ away from all the hullabaloo at home?”

I smiled and shook my head.

“I um…I don’t really have a home there anymore. Just kinda riding, you know?”

That did not ease his worry a bit. In fact, it made it worse. He watched me for a moment, then stood and put his supplies away. He set the kit on the pool table, then turned back to me.

“Is there somethin’ ya runnin’ from? Some kind of trouble?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Not that I know of,” I replied.

Chibs cleared his throat.

“The reason I ask is that we thought the guy who came after ya, the one who pushed you off the road, may have been causin’ you some trouble,” he explained.

I shook my head again.

“I left on my own accord. I had no idea who that guy was. Never saw his face or anything,” I replied.

Chibs nodded.

“He looked Mexican to me. Ring any bells?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Nah. He came out of nowhere. I don’t have any shit with anyone,” I replied.

Chibs nodded.

“What worries me is that that might have been a possible stalker situation. He may have been tailin’ ya for a while before he thought he was deep enough in the middle of nowhere to hide a body.”

I took in a shaky breath. Now that I thought about it, that sounded possible.

“He could have seen me at my last pit stop. I topped off a few towns before. Maybe then,” I replied.

Chibs nodded.

“What did you guys do with him?” I asked.

Chibs smiled.

“Got rid of him,” he replied.

I smiled at that. I really didn’t care what they did to him. As far as I was concerned, he deserved it.

“Your stitches will be out in about two weeks. However, it will take you some time before you’re able to ride again. That muscle needs time to heal. It will probably take that long before your bike is up and runnin’ anyway,” he explained.

Ah shit! The bike!

“Look, don’t even worry about that bike. I have a feeling it’s going to be a money pit. Just, keep it. Scrap it. Whatever. I’ll call someone. Have them come out and pick me up.”

Chibs smirked.

“Darlin’, I know my bikes, and I know you spent a pretty penny on that thing,” he said.

I smiled at that.

“Doesn’t mean I have the cash to fix it,” I said.

Chibs tilted his head to the side.

“That’s your baby. I know it is. I don’t want to see the pain of partin’ with it. You’re obviously a bike girl.”

I nodded.

“Then you know how it is when you have to bury one. I know that pain,” he said, his widening.

I just nodded, understanding. He smiled and patted my shoulder.

“Don’t worry about the bike. It’s on me,” he said.

My eyes widened and I opened my mouth to protest, but he stopped me.

“Ah-ah-ah,” he said, then smiled warmly, “You just work on gettin’ better. In the mean time,” he gestured to the room, “As they say, mi casa es su casa.”

I smiled at that.

“Thank-you.”

Chibs stood and picked up the kit from the pool table.

“You hungry?” he asked, walking back over to the bar, “Got a couple of guys makin’ a donut run.”

I nodded. Food, now that it was mentioned, sounded heavenly. I had a bag of potato chips for lunch and no dinner, and I didn’t realize that I was starving.

“Yeah, sure,” I replied.

Chibs put the first aid kit away, then walked over to a room off this room and returned, pushing a worn out office chair.

“Come on,” he said, pushing the chair up to the couch.

He moved around the chair and offered his hand.

“I know you don’t want to be stuck on that couch all day,” he said, helping me sit up, “Easy.”

Chibs helped me off of the couch and into the chair.

“I don’t mind playing orderly,” he said.

I smiled, but the pain in my head kept me from laughing.

“Goddamn,” I growled, holding my head in my hands.

“I have something that will take the edge off. You ready?” he asked.

I nodded. Chibs pushed on the chair, moving me away from the couch and over to the bar.

“Tiggy brought your backpack in. You want to sit at the bar?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure,” I replied.

Chibs pushed me up to the island and helped me onto a barstool. Once I was seated, I reached for my backpack, which was now dirty from its tumble in the dirt.

“I hope nothin’ was broken,” Chibs said, walking around the island, “Coffee?”

I pulled the top zipper open.

“Doubt it,” I replied, then glanced up at him, “Yes, please.”

Chibs walked over to the counter and prepared a pot.

“Oh, by the way,” he walked over to a lockbox near a couple of vodka bottles, produced a set of keys from his pocket to unlock it, the pulled a gun from it—my gun.

“Thought you might be missin’ this,” he said.

I felt my heartbeat pick up as he set the gun in front of me. I watched as he set the weapon down, then move over to the cabinets to get a couple of mugs down.

“Now, what is a young lass like you carrying for?” he asked.

I bit my lip.

“Look, I bought the thing legally. I have a license. I—“

“Darlin’, I’m not gettin’ on to ya. I mean, when you think about it, do I have room to talk?”

I twisted my lips in thought. He had a point. I knew the club had been in guns and drugs, at least, back when the Tellers ran the show. I doubted any were legal.

“I was just curious,” he said.

He approached me and handed me a mug. I gave him a small smile and thanked him.

“I keep it for protection,” I replied.

Chibs nodded. That wasn’t the only reason I kept it, though.

“Guess it didn’t do me much good,” I went on.

Chibs smiled.

“At least he didn’t kill ya,” he said.

I nodded in agreement.

Across the room, the door opened and two men walked in carrying three closed boxes, and one open. The first guy was huge! Long hair, beanie, massive arms and a towering stature. The other guy was scrawny, with messy brown hair and big eyes. Both were wearing chains and cuts.

“Don’t tell me you already got into them,” Chibs said.

The tall guy shrugged.

“Just the one. The others are still warm,” he replied, handing the boxes over to Chibs.

Chibs rolled his eyes and took the boxes. The door opened again, and Juice walked in, looking excited.

“I heard there were donuts,” he said.

Chibs opened a box in front of me, then picked a glazed one.

“Help yourself, sweetheart,” he said.

I reached into the box and picked the next glazed donut. Chibs turned around to face Juice.

“I thought you didn’t eat this kind of ‘crap,’” Chibs teased.

Juice smiled.

“I don’t, but it’s hard to turn down a donut, man,” he replied.

Chibs smiled and watched him walk over to the other boxes.

“You must be Callie,” the tallest man said.

I smiled shyly and nodded. Chibs gripped my shoulder.

“Callie, this is Rane Quinn, and this little shit who’s stuffing his face,” Chibs began.

The smaller guy looked up, frightened, with a cheek full of sugary bread.

“Sorry,” he quickly apologized.

“Is Ratboy,” Chibs finished.

Ratboy. I could see it.

Ratboy quickly swallowed and wiped his face with a napkin. He then gave me a nervous smile and shook my hand

“Nice to meet you,” he said.

I smiled.

“You, too,” I replied.

“Oh shit!” Juice exclaimed, then jumped in front of Chibs, donut in hand, “Dude, I forgot to tell you.”

Chibs watched the younger man worried.

“‘Bout what, Juicey?” he asked.

Juice swallowed visibly.

“That—“

The sound of a car door shutting alerted us.

“Venus is here,” he finished.

Chibs sighed, then looked down at me.

“You’re in for some quality entertainment, Callie girl,” he said.

I watched him worriedly.

“Who’s Venus?” I asked.

“Tig’s girl,” he replied.

Juice laughed.

“In so many words,” he said.

Chibs smiled.

“She ain’t bad,” Rane said.

Outside of the room, we heard Tig call for us.

“Just don’t let her scare ya,” Chibs said.

We could hear the clacking of heels on the concrete floor, and I had a feeling I was about to see some kind of show. Heels? In a place like this? Must be a high maintenance woman.  
Then, she entered, Tig following behind. I nearly choked on my donut. Chibs tried not to laugh at me, and Juice bit his lip.

“I told you!” Juice whispered.

I stared at Venus. High maintenance, yes, but woman…

Venus strode in, carrying two plastic boxes. She was a tall woman, with long, flowing brown hair, legs that could make any woman jealous, flawless makeup, and she wore a white skirt and a very, very revealing black top, as well as a gorgeous statement necklace. However, it was obvious not a lot on her was original. She was definitely male underneath the makeup and breast job, but if this was how he, or she rolled, then I was good. I was more surprised by Tig, though. He was proving to be quite interesting.

“I hope you boys don’t fill up on donuts. I brought something for our dear President’s birthday,” she drawled.

Chibs groaned.

“Darlin’, no,” he said.

“I know you boys are used to Gemma making cakes for you, but since her unfortunate mishaps, I wanted to keep up the tradition. So, Chibs, hun, Happy belated Birthday,” she said.

She walked up to him and kissed his cheek.

“Thank-you, love,” he replied.

“I had some last night. Better than Gemma’s, and she was an awesome baker,” Tig spoke up.

Juice snorted.

“I bet you did,” he teased.

Tig curled his lip and back-handed Juice’s shoulder.

“Learn some damn respect, ya little punk!” he snapped.

Juice smiled and rubbed his arm.

“Ah, shit!” Chibs said, “Juicey, can you run out to my bike? Grab the Ziploc bag from the left saddle bag?”

Juice nodded.

“Sure thing,” he replied, then grabbed a chocolate donut before heading out the door.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Venus said, stepping up to me, “Alexander told me all about what happened. I’m so sorry.”

She leaned down and gave me a gentle hug. Alexander? Who the fuck?

Tig shook his head and pointed to himself, mouthing “me.” I nodded. So that’s his name.  
zVenus and I parted and she cupped my cheek with well manicured fingers.

“If there’s anything you need, hun, you just let Aunt Venus know, okay?” she asked sweetly.

I nodded. As crazy as this was, she was as kind as the rest of the club, and I didn’t know what it was, but I was starting to like her.

“Thank-you,” I said.

“You’re so welcome, sugar,” she said, then moved back to Tig’s side.

“You know, Venus and I were talking last night, and we don’t think it’s safe for her to stay here. I mean, definitely not by herself. Especially if this is some stalker situation or gang deal we’re up against,” Tig said.

Chibs nodded. Juice reentered with the bag and held it up.

“Here it is,” he announced and passed it off to Chibs.

Chibs thanked him and opened the bag.

“I have a couple of different things here. But, we can try this topical stuff. Works beautifully, most of the time,” he said.

I nodded and smiled.

“Chibs, do you think it would be okay if Callie stayed with Alexander and I? It’s definitely much quieter than the clubhouse,” Venus proposed.

“Yeah, and Venus will be home most of the time. Save Juice from sleeping on cots,” Tig added.

Juice shrugged.

“I don’t mind,” he said.

Chibs grabbed a napkin and reached up to peel back the gauze on my forehead.

“If this starts to itch, let me know. You could be allergic,” he warned.

“Fantastic,” I said sarcastically.

Chibs smiled.

“Just a precaution,” he said, then dabbed the ointment on.

The heated, swollen skin immediately began to cool, and the pain began to lift. It took all of me not to let my eyes roll back. The throbbing was really beginning to take its toll and make me feel sick. This was a godsend.

“Tiggy, I’d say yes, but her dressin’ need to be changed every few hours to prevent infection,” Chibs said.

“I can do it if you show me how,” Venus offered.

Chibs placed the gauze back down.

“I’ll get ya new tape,” he said to me, then turned to Tig and Venus, “I suppose I could. Wouldn’t be a bad idea. Especially if there are more than just the guy we whacked last night.”

Venus and Tig nodded. Chibs walked over to the cabinet for more surgical tape.

“Of course,” he went on, turning back to us, “It’s up to her.”

I felt cornered. I appreciated the offer, but I just wasn’t sure what to do yet. Call a friend from home, or stay? Apparently I was in good hands here.

“You don’t have to decide right away, sweetheart,” Tig said, “But we take care of everyone, and we’re just looking out for you. We’re like family.”

I smiled at that. There was definitely a very deep-rooted brotherhood between these guys, and even though I felt like an outcast, they made me feel welcome.

“If you decide on Tig’s place,” Chibs said, then ripped a piece of tape and applied it to my forehead, “and you get sick of them, you can always come to my place.”

I took a deep breath, letting all of this absorb.

“Somebody’s jealous,” Tig teased.

“Fuck off!” Chibs snapped playfully.

Tig laughed. Venus came up to me and patted my shoulder.

“You think about it, sweetie,” she said softly.

I nodded.

“Right,” Chibs said, “You guys get out to TM and see what you can do about her bike.”

Ratboy, Rane, and Juice nodded. Chibs placed a hand on the center of my back, grabbing my attention.

“Why don’t I give you the grand tour of the place?” he asked.

I just nodded.

“Of Scoops?” Tig asked, “There’s not much.”

Chibs shrugged.

“Why not show her Charming?” Venus asked, “It’s quite the quaint little town.”

I smiled at her.

“She shouldn’t be on a bike,” Chibs said.

“I drove the car. It won’t be a problem,” she replied.

Chibs sighed and looked down at me. I shrugged, silently answering his questioning gaze.

“I’m game,” I replied.

Venus smiled widely.

“You need your rest, though,” Chibs reminded me.

“Small tour, then,” Tig compromised.

Chibs shook his head.

“What?” Tig asked.

Chibs smirked and leaned down to my ear.

“I believe, if you choose to stay, you’re gonna be quickly accepted as one of the family,” he murmured.

I smiled at that.

“We’ll see, I guess,” I replied.

Tig jingled the car keys.

“We’ll pull up to the curb,” he said.

“Then, when we get back for lunch, we can cut into that cake,” Venus said.

Chibs nodded.

“Sounds like a plan,” he commented.

Venus grinned and kissed his cheek again before turning on her heel and following behind Tig. Juice patted Chibs’ shoulder.

“We’ll see ya later, brother,” he said.

Rane and Ratboy walked to the door, but Chibs stopped Juice.

“Hey,” he said.

Juice stopped and looked at his President nervously.

“Thank-you for watching her,” he said.

Juice smiled.

“Welcome,” he replied, then nodded before following after Rane and Ratboy. Chibs turned to me, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You cool with riding piggy-back? I don’t want you walkin’ down those stairs with stitches,” he said.

I laughed.

“A piggy-back ride?” I asked.

Chibs shrugged.

“That’s what us big, rough, rugged bikers do,” he said jokingly, then winked.

I smiled and gave in.

“Sure, but I think I’ll walk once we’re down there. I don’t want you killing your back,” I said.

Chibs snorted and put his hands on his hips.

“Please!” he said, getting cocky.

I smiled and raised my arms in the air.

“If you insist, Prez,” I said teasingly.

Chibs shook his head and lifted me onto his back with ease. I had barely known these guys for a day, and already, I felt oddly comfortable. Almost in place. I wasn’t sure if I was going to stay here, of what was going to happen, but I knew deep down these guys were going to make it hard for me to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please feel free to let me know how you liked it!


	4. The Cabin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tig finds something he was never meant to find.

“So, you staying at Tig’s for a few days?” Juice asked.

I looked up from my food and nodded. It had been quite a long and almost uneventful day. Venus showed me around town, much to Tig and Chibs’ boredom. Chibs and I had sat in the backseat, bored out of our skulls. Downtown Charming was interesting, but the rest of town just looked like an old shithole to me. Sure, it had its spots where it shined, but the rest was forgettable. Venus talked on and on, and though her very “Blanche Devereaux” style of talking was entertaining, it didn’t keep Chibs from sliding over and laying his head on my shoulder, mock sleeping.  
They took me to Teller-Morrow Automotive, where Chibs showed me what was left of my bike, and Ratboy gave me the low-down. Parts were not going to be cheap, and I knew that when I purchased the bike. Chibs still insisted on covering all of it. I felt guilty about it, but these guys knew what they were doing, and I had faith they would get it in full working condition soon. For lunch, we got take-out and ate at Red Woody before I had to call it quits for the day and nap. Chibs changed my dressing once more before he and some of the guys had to go out on a run, and Venus was called in to work. Juice was ordered to stay with me until Venus returned to take me to her and Tig’s place.  
My decision to stay with them had not taken much thought. I did not have much of a reason to choose staying with them over Chibs. I knew either place I went, I was safe. However, I felt a little safer at Tig’s, knowing there were two people there instead of one. Besides, if I did get sick of them, there was always Chibs’ place.  
When I woke up late that afternoon, Juice had brought a couple of bags of food from a nearby diner, and we ate at the bar with Lyla, who I learned was the director here at Red Woody. I had not put much thought into the studio. It was a place where the club met for meetings, but I did not put the cameras and skimpy clothing together. Porn. It seemed almost obvious now, but it was not a hostile or uncomfortable environment, and Lyla was as sweet as could be.

“Yeah. Just until I decide what to do next,” I replied.

Juice nodded and looked back down at his ice cream.

“Were you ever in a club back home or anything?” he asked curiously.

I smiled and shook my head.

“Nah. I was around them and all, but never part of one. The guys I was around were, though. They were into bikes and guns. And cars,” I said, picking at the last of my food, “Almost made it to old lady status, though.”

Juice smiled.

“Oh yeah?” he asked.

I nodded. My mind flew back to Los Angeles—back to the boys.

“Yeah,” I replied quietly.

Juice propped his elbows on the counter, and I could feel his eyes on me.

“Club fall apart?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Almost, but they held on,” I replied, then glanced up at Juice.

He watched me patiently, listening.

“My fiancé...club VP. He passed away a few years ago,” I said.

Juice’s eyes widened and he looked ashamed of himself.

“Oh, um. Look, I’m sorry,” he said.

I waved him off.

“It’s okay,” I said.

Juice sighed.

“I just had to get out of there, you know? I loved the club, but there were always memories. Became too much, I guess.”

Juice nodded.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, then reached for the bottle of Coke he had been drinking, “I know how that is.”

I bit my lip, wondering what the hell Juice had run from.

“The past is the past, though,” I said.

Juice smiled.

“Yeah,” he said, “Until it comes back to bite you in the ass.”

I laughed.

“I know how that is,” I said, making him laugh.

Outside, a motorcycle pulled up. Lyla walked up to the door, unlocked it, and opened it. Outside, rain was pouring down, soaking Charming and the club President jogging through the door.  
Chibs pushed his wet hair back on his head and shook his helmet off.

“Thanks, darlin',” he said.

Lyla nodded and shut the door before walking out to her office, where she had been editing before Juice returned.

“You’re welcome,” she replied.

Chibs walked by Juice and I and patted Juice on the shoulder.

“Head up to TM. Tig’s meetin’ you out there,” he said.

Juice nodded, then slipped down from the barstool.

“See you later, Callie,” he said.

I glanced up as Juice grabbed his cut from the counter and stuck his arms through it.

“Stay dry,” I said jokingly.

Juice laughed and waved to Chibs.

“See you later, brother,” he said.

“Yeah, you, too,” Chibs called.

Juice turned away and headed out the door to his bike. Chibs pulled his cut and brown leather jacket from his shoulders and sat beside me, letting out a tired groan.

“Hard day?” I asked.

Chibs blew his cheeks out.

“Just a bunch of bullshit,” he replied, “The usual."

I smiled. Chibs clasped his hands on the counter and turned to me.

“How are you feelin’, darlin’?” he asked.

“Much better. The topical wore off, but the pain isn’t as bad as before,” I replied.

Chibs nodded.

“Yeah. I’ll send that tube home with ya,” he replied.

I nodded and thanked him. Chibs leaned over and reached into a pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

“Mind if I smoke?” he asked.

I shook my head. Chibs lit up and took a long, satisfying drag from his cigarette. I wadded my trash up and tossed it in one of the large brown sacks Juice had carried in.

“Venus will be by to pick you up soon. I’ll follow behind. Show her how to change your dressin’ before I head on home,” he said.

I just nodded. Chibs turned his head to smoke and blow it the other way. I looked up at him, my eyes trailing the jagged scar across his cheek. I wondered how he got his scars, and who the asshole was that gave them to him. He seemed way too nice to deserve them.

“Listen,” I spoke up.

Chibs pulled up an ashtray and flicked off some ashes. He then looked down at me. I watched his eyes nervously before looking down and picking at my nails.

“I just um, wanted to thank-you. For everything. I owe you,” I said.

Chibs eyes went soft.

“Darlin’, no. You don’t owe me shit. There’s no life debt here. This is what we do. We defend,” he said.

I gave him a small smile.

“Some kind of superhero shit?” I asked.

Chibs had smiled at me before, but for the first time, he smiled with teeth and laughed. For some reason, and I don’t honestly know what I expected, but I initially thought his teeth would not be so great. Yellow from smoking, maybe. However, his teeth were all there, and as straight and white as could be. It was brief, lasting only a second or two, but for that brief moment, he lit up. He had a nice smile.

“Somethin’ like that,” he replied, amused.

I smiled and crossed my arms on the counter.

“I at least owe you something for paying for my bike,” I pressed.

Chibs turned to face me.

“Callie, look here,” he said.

I looked up at him nervously. He leaned down and cupped my cheek. I instantly froze. His eyes locked with mine, and I was scared to breathe—or even blink, for that matter.

“Nothin’,” he said.

Then, my heart stopped. He reminded me of someone...

“Chibs, I—“

He held up a finger, silencing me. I stared at him in shock. He didn’t know me, not that it mattered, but I was nothing but a stranger. No harm, but no benefit to him. Why was he doing this for me?

“You can’t just expect me not to repay you somehow,” I said.

His hand moved down to my shoulder.

“Listen, sweetheart,” he said, propping his elbow on the counter, “I’ve been givin’ and expectin’ nothin’ in return for a long time. It’s just how I am.”

I let out a shallow breath. Chibs let go of me and reached for his cigarette from the ashtray.

“Put up with many an injustice. Constant bullshit,” he went on.

He began to ice over again, that brief moment of light disappearing. He stared at the wall behind the ice cream machine and I could sense his mood darkening.

“I’ve been with this club since I was a kid. 19 or somethin’. Clay Morrow took me in. Since then, this club has been my world—my family. I’ve been tugged this way and that, you know? Dragged through shit. Nearly killed too many times.”

Chibs stubbed out his cigarette and looked down at me.

“It feels good to give to someone who deserves it,” he said.

Then, he gave me a sideways smile, and I returned it.

“Thank-you,” I said quietly.

Chibs then pulled me into a hug, and I couldn’t help but give him a subtle squeeze. There was no telling what kind of shit he had been through. If anyone deserved to be given something nice, it was him.  
Chibs and I parted in time for a pair of headlights to shine in the window. Chibs looked back down at me.

“Your ride’s here, ma’ lady,” he said jokingly.

I smiled as he stood and helped me to my feet. Lyla walked up to us with my backpack and jacket, and Chibs helped me into it.

“Here’s a rain poncho, Chibs. The hood will probably fly off, but it’ll keep your clothes dry,” she said.

Chibs nodded and took the package from her hands.

“Thank-you, sweetheart,” he said.

Lyla smiled.

“I’ll lock up here. You guys go on home,” she said.

Chibs and I thanked her.

Venus opened the door and sighed in relief, umbrella in hand.

“I have never been so wet in my life,” she complained.

Lyla, Chibs and I tried desperately not to laugh.

“Right,” Chibs said, then slipped on his jacket, cut, and helmet.

Venus shot him a look.

“You ready to go, sweetheart?” she asked me.

“Yeah,” I replied.

Chibs reached for my backpack and took it out of my hand. When I gave him a questioning look, he just shrugged.

“I got it,” he said.

I just let him carry it, and with that, said goodnight to Lyla before holding Chibs' arm and walking over to Venus. The two of them helped me out to the car. Chibs guided me into the front seat, and in the dark, with the rain, and a stiff hip, was no easy task. However, we did it, and he placed my backpack in the backseat.

“Right behind ya,” he said, then patted my arm and shut the door.

Venus stuffed her umbrella in the backseat, climbed in, and slowly drove to her and Tig’s place, Chibs’ headlight shining protectively behind us.

***

“Feel a bit fresher?” Venus asked as she helped me out of the bathroom.

I hobbled into the hall and shrugged. I was filthy, and I’m sure I was not totally pleasant to put up with all day. I needed a bath. Shower. Something. Unfortunately, Chibs ordered sponge baths only. When the stitches come out, I could shower all I wanted, but with my forehead and right hip wounded, I could only take washcloth and scrub.

“A little,” I replied.

Venus took my arm and helped me into the guest bedroom where Chibs was waiting with new bandages. I was now dressed in soft black shorts and an old t-shirt. I didn’t have many clothes to choose from, but I still had some clean ones, and that is all I cared about at the moment.

“I know how it is. I mean, look at me. You think I could shower when I had my chest operation?” she asked.

I just laughed. Venus smiled and helped me into the room. She and Chibs guided me onto the bed and Chibs began instructing Venus on dressing the stitches. Outside, a motorcycle rumbled into the driveway.

“That must be Alex,” she said.

“Yeah,” Chibs agreed, “Ya get all that?”

Venus nodded.

“Yes. I don’t think I will have a problem with it,” she replied.

Chibs nodded.

“Baby, I’m home!” Tig called from the front of the house.

“Coming!” she called back, then patted Chibs’ shoulder.

“Thank-you, Filip,” she said.

Chibs smiled.

“Welcome,” he replied.

Venus looked down at me.

“I’ll be back in a minute, sugar,” she said.

I nodded.

“No problem,” I replied.

Chibs and I watched her leave and waited until we heard her interact with Tig before speaking. I shot Chibs a look.

“Filip?” I asked.

Chibs rolled his eyes.

“Filip Telford. That’s my birth name. Chibs means—“

“Street knife,” I finished.

Chibs looked up in surprise. I smiled and shrugged.

“It was on a movie,” I replied.

Chibs smiled at that.

“Do you ever go by Filip?” I asked.

Chibs shrugged.

“My family calls me Filip, of course. Venus always uses our given names. The law,” he said, smiling.

I nodded. Chibs reached down and pulled the blankets over me, then patted my leg before standing and reaching into his jacket pocket for a tube.

“The topical,” he said, then set it down on the nightstand.

I nodded and watched him place it beside a digital clock.

“You got a cell phone, Callie girl?” he asked.

I nodded again. Chibs reached into his pocket again and handed me a folded piece of paper. I opened it to see a phone number scribbled in ink.

“That’s the number you can reach me at. If you need me, call, okay?” he asked.

I folded the paper and nodded.

“Thank-you,” I said.

Chibs smiled, then leaned down and, to my shock, kissed my forehead.

“Sleep well, darlin’. Don’t let these two drive ya crazy,” he said.

I nodded and laughed.

“Got it,” I replied.

With that, Chibs wished me a goodnight, and left to go home. I reached for the lamp on the nightstand and turned the light off. To my surprise, I fell asleep in minutes.

The following days were nothing less than entertaining. I spent a lot of my time with Miss Venus—not that I minded. She spent quality “girl” time with me, and even took me shopping to buy a few new changes of clothes and new shoes. I had not planned on carrying any more clothing than needed for this trip, but since my trip had been lengthened, I decided it was best. Spending time with her did me good. I learned a lot, and the love between her and Tig, as strange as it was when you overthink, was beautiful. Tig was a good guy. A little nuts, mind you, but he had me laughing my ass off. He and Venus made me feel like one of their own in their home. An overgrown kid with out-of-the-box parents, if you will. Venus was super motherly, and would have done anything for me if I asked. And Tig became very protective. Always asked how I was doing. Talked bikes and the club with me. Almost fatherly, in a way. He was cool, and I liked him. I liked all the guys in the club.  
When I was not at home (if you could call it that), I was at TM with Juice, watching him and Ratboy work on my bike. We would sit and surf the web for parts, and he talked about sneaking a few upgrades and customizations in. I told him not to, for Chibs was already paying out the ass for my damn bike, but we did sneak a few upgrades in. Chibs would have our heads if he knew. Juice quickly became a friend. Brother, almost. He was very talkative. Energetic. Knew his bikes and guns as well as he knew his technology. We were both almost the same age, he a year older than me. It was probably why we got along so well. However, I did not get along with him as well as I got along with Chibs.  
When Chibs was around, I found myself jumping at the chance to hang out with him. He was always towing me around, showing me the ropes of the club, like Tig, and when the day came to remove my stitches, he insisted on helping me strengthen my leg. We went for walks, and I took a few laps up and down the docks when I was at Red Woody. Anything to get my leg back to speed—to feel like myself again. I wanted to physically feel like myself again, but during my talks with Chibs, trying to get to know each other, I realized that I had forgotten what feeling like myself was really like. It had been years since I even talked to a friend (at least, in person). In isolating myself, I had forgotten how to be myself. I was quickly rediscovering myself, though, with the help of these crazy guys. Although, they may just be driving me to the brink of insanity.

Venus has some very loving, but crazy ideas when it comes to the boys. She loves them, and they love her. She is as closely tied with them as they are to each other, Tig or no Tig. She is an honorary Sister of Anarchy, and maybe even, if it works out, on the road to old lady status. It all depends. Still, she does anything and everything for them, including being a sort of mother to them. Juice needs new boots, he has a new pair of high-dollar leather boots at the table waiting for him, courtesy of Miss Venus Van Dam. Rat has a cold, she’s there with Nyquil and chicken soup. Tig needs someone to piss and moan to…well, I guess that’s all self explanatory. She takes care of them, and after a hard week of club business, she got this bright, and kind of cheesy idea. I didn’t think the boys would go for it, but since food was promised, they were all in. A picnic up at the cabin the club owned. She knew they needed it, and I knew they appreciated it. Tig, especially, and he let her know it.  
I was dressed for the day, freshly showered and ready to go as I walked stiffly into the living room, grabbing a messenger bag I had purchased a few days ago along the way. Venus had breakfast ready, and had asked me to get up early and help her get the food ready. I expected to see aluminum trays of food, covered and ready to go, and I did, but not without something I didn’t want to see.  
I walked into the kitchen, still half-asleep, to find Venus up on the counter, legs wrapped around Tig’s waist, tongue down his throat.

“Oh, goddamn!” I exclaimed, shielding my eyes.

Tig broke away from his girlfriend’s lips, and looked over at me.

“What?” he asked innocently.

I grimaced.

“Well, I was hungry,” I said.

Tig rolled his eyes and Venus hopped down from the counter.

“It’s just kissing,” Tig said.

He walked by me and rubbed the top of my head. I rolled my eyes.

“Sugar, what do you want for breakfast?” Venus asked.

“French toast?” Tig asked teasingly.

I laughed and playfully shoved him away.

“I think I’ll pass, but thank-you,” I said.

Venus sighed.

“Callie, hun, you need to eat,” she reminded me.

Tig moved behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders.

“I’m okay,” I replied.

I really wasn’t that hungry.

“You need help packing the food for the picnic?” I asked.

Venus smiled.

“No, baby, thank-you. My sweet Alexander got it all finished before I got up,” she replied.

“All for you, baby,” he said.

I laughed.

“You guys are making me sick,” I said jokingly.

Tig laughed and patted my back.

“Come on. We’ll spare ya,” he said, leading me out of the kitchen and back into the living room.

“How’s your hip doing, sweetheart?” he asked.

We walked around the coffee table and sat down, he in the recliner and me on the couch. I sat slowly, grunting through a mild cramp.

“It’s pretty stiff. I’ll work it out after Juice picks me up. We’re going to check on my bike and head to the warehouse,” I replied.

Tig nodded.

“Running laps will help,” he agreed.

“Yeah. Chibs can help me do stretches if he’s there,” I replied.

Tig smiled.

“You seem to really like hanging out with that Scottish bastard,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t sure where he was going, but I was ready to defend myself.

“He doesn’t ruin my appetite,” I joked.

Tig grinned.

“Nah, Chibby’s cool,” he said, leaning forward

I nodded.

Outside we heard the roar of an engine and two short beeps from a horn.

“There’s Juice,” Tig announced.

We jumped up from our seats and headed back into the kitchen. Venus passed us several stacks of trays as Juice knocked on the door.

“I’ll get it. Make sure these get to a refrigerator as soon as possible,” Venus said.

“There’s one at the cabin,” Tig replied.

“Okay. I’ll pick up some drinks on the way there. I have to run to work, but I’ll meet you guys at noon,” she said.

“Okay, babe,” Tig replied.

Venus walked up to the door and opened it to reveal Juice and one of the vans in the driveway.

“Hey, guys!” Juice said cheerfully.

“Juice, take Callie’s boxes, will ya?” Tig asked.

Juice looked to me and smiled, holding out his arms.

“No problem,” he replied, as Tig squeezed by him.

I passed the food over and Venus leaned down to kiss Juice’s cheek.

“Good morning, sweetheart. You drive safe, okay? Take care of Callie,” she said.

Juice nodded.

“I will,” he said.

Venus turned to me and gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Are you sure you don’t want something for the road? I can have a bagel up in no time,” she offered.

I smiled at her and shook my head.

“It’s okay. Really,” I replied.

She smiled and tucked my hair behind my ear.

“You be careful, then, baby. I’ll see you later. And I know how you and Chibs are. Do not get into any junk food and spoil your lunch,” she warned me.

I laughed and promised her I would suffer starvation until lunch. She then hugged me and Tig walked with me out to the van, opening the door for me and helping me up into the high passenger seat before shutting the door for me. He then climbed onto the running board and poked his head through the open window.

“You good, baby girl?” he asked.

I nodded as I buckled myself in. Juice climbed into the driver’s seat and followed suit.

“Drive carefully, Juice. Don’t let that food slide too much. Venus will throw a bitch fit,” he said lowly.

Juice laughed.

“I know,” he replied, “Chibs wants to see Callie, so we’ll run to Red Woody first. I’ll drop her off and head straight to the cabin. Rat is already out there setting up chairs and shit.”

Tig nodded.

“Where’s Quinn and Hap? We’re supposed to make a run before lunch.”

“TM. Happy’s helping Quinn with an old Silverado someone brought in,” Juice replied.

Tig nodded.

“Alright. I’ll see you two later,” he said.

Juice nodded. Tig climbed down and patted the hood of the van before rejoining Venus at the door.  
Juice rolled the windows up and backed the van out of the driveway.

“You seemed ready to get outta there, huh?” Juice asked, a boyish grin on his face.

I rolled my eyes.

“I came into the kitchen to find them making out on the counter,” I said.

Juice gagged.

“Oh God! Callie, I’m so sorry,” he said.

I just laughed.

“Tig throwing his tongue down Venus’s throat is not something I like to see first thing in the morning. Guess I have no choice, though. Their house,” I said.

Juice laughed.

“Hey! Look at it this way. At least you didn’t catch him throwing her something else, if you know what I mean,” he said.

I threw my head back and burst out laughing. Juice giggled at his own joke. I hoped I never did walk in on anything more.  
When we arrived at Red Woody, Lyla was outside talking to a few girls, and Chibs’ bike was parked near the door. Juice pulled up beside the bike and parked. I reached for the door and put the strap of my messenger bag over my head.

“You need help, Cal?” Juice asked.

I shook my head and carefully slid out of the van.

“I’m good. Drive safe, Juice. Thanks for picking me up,” I said.

Juice grinned.

“Welcome. See you at the cabin,” he said.

I smiled at him and shut the door. Juice put the van in reverse and I walked up onto the sidewalk, fighting the kink in my hip. Lyla waved at me and smiled.

“Morning,” she said.

“Morning. Where’s Chibs?” I asked.

She pointed to the door.

“Bar,” she replied.

“‘Kay. Thanks, Lyla.”

She nodded and went back to her conversation. I walked in and to the bar, my leg protesting.

“Chibs?” I called.

The bar was covered in Crow Eaters, and two Sons who were loading a cooler. One guy, African American, bald, sunglasses on his head, looked up at me.

"He's in the office," he said.

I thanked him and head down the hall to find an office, the door opened and Chibs voice floating from it.  
When I walked in, I found Chibs sitting behind the desk, glasses on, pen in hand as he bitched to himself over whatever papers he was working on. When I entered, he looked up and smiled.

“Hey, darlin’,” he said.

He set the paper down and walked over to me, giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek before shutting the door leading me towards a couch.

“How ya feelin’ this mornin’, sweetheart?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“Other than nauseous from some Tig and Venus shenanigans, okay. Kind of stiff,” I replied.

Chibs stopped and moved around to face me.

“Yeah, you’re limpin’ a bit. You were walkin’ fine yesterday,” he said.

I shrugged.

“I probably slept in a weird position,” I replied.

Chibs smirked.

“Would this have anything to do with Tig and Venus’s nightly shenanigans?” he asked teasingly.

I smiled and rolled my eyes.

“Chibs,” I said.

He smiled at me and patted my shoulder.

“Come on. I’ll get the blanket. We’ll get you stretched out before we go to the cabin. If we do a lot of walkin’, you’ll be crippled,” he said.

I took my bag off while he went to grab the blanket that had covered me my first night here. He laid it out on the floor and grabbed a few worn out throw pillows from the couch to support my head and back. We had been doing these stretches for a few days now. Since the stitches were removed, and they had helped, but it was all I could do not to flush when he helped me. It was awkward at first, but I trusted Chibs. In no way was he ever rough or disrespectful. This was about health, not other shit. The first time we did this, my imagination went wild, and I wanted to kick my own ass for thinking that way about Chibs, but I got a grip. It’d be different if it was Juice or Rat, for they were around my age, and not so bad if it was Rane, but Chibs?

“Stop it,” I thought to myself.

Chibs gently felt my hip and gritted his teeth.

“You have wound yourself up good, Callie girl. Bend your leg. Don’t drag your foot,” he ordered.

I winced as my muscles tried to defy me.

“When did you become such an expert at this?” I asked.

Chibs smirked.

“I was in the army, darlin’. Helped soldiers all the time,” he replied.

I gritted my teeth as he guided my knee up. My hip popped several times, trying to unwind the tension.

“There it goes,” Chibs said, “Don’t kick me now. This will hurt.”

I winced as he made me pull my leg over the straight one.

“How long did you do this?” I asked.

“Worked as a medic for five months,” he replied.

I winced and squeezed my eyes shut as he applied more pressure. I hated this part, but it always helped me feel better once it was over.

“You have a knot that’s not budgin’. Straighten this leg back out,” he said.

I opened my eyes and looked up at him.

“Five months?” I asked.

“Ended in a court martial,” he said with a grin.

I laughed and shook my head.

“Jesus Christ,” I replied.

Chibs laughed and patted my leg.

“Let’s try it again, darlin’. Leg up.”

I lifted my leg and Chibs pushed it down, feeling my hip as the muscles broke free of their stubbornness.

“This is going to cause a severe Charlie Horse if this doesn’t unwind,” he said.

I let out an unamused laugh.

“And you’re going to cripple me,” I grunted.

Chibs laughed.

“Hold my hand. Raise that leg,” he ordered.

I grabbed his hand and squeezed the life out of his fingers as the muscle broke free, causing my leg to jerk and the knots to disappear. I let out a gasp of relief and Chibs let go of my leg.  
I stared at the ceiling for a moment, savoring the feeling of freedom. Chibs chuckled.

“Still doubt me?” he asked.

I laughed and shook my head. Chibs offered his hand and helped me off of the floor.

“We can pick this shit up later. Come on. Let’s hit the town. See what trouble we can stir up,” he said.

He turned around and went to the table to grab his cut.

“Trouble?” I asked.

Chibs turned around and smiled.

“Just for a walk. Get that leg worked out,” he said innocently, “Give these prissy fucks around town the wrong impression.”

I sighed and he winked.

“Chibs,” I said, exasperated.

“What?” he asked, reaching into the inside pocket for a packet of cigarette and making sure his gun was concealed.

“What kind of wrong impression?” I asked.

Chibs walked by me, placing a cigarette between his lips and raising an eyebrow at me.

“The best kind,” he said.

I scoffed and swatted his arm.

“You’re going to make people think the newbie is now your old lady or something,” I said.

Chibs laughed.

“Let ‘em think it. Come on!” he said, walking to the door.

I sighed. Tig was right. Scottish bastard.

“The sooner we go, the sooner we can go to the cabin,” he said.

I smiled and followed him out the door. This is why I liked hanging around Chibs by myself. He was fun to be around, and even though I had said I didn’t need someone like him in my life, I was beginning to take that back.

At the cabin, Venus had this massive buffet set up, and the backyard was set up with tables end to end. There was plenty of food, drinks, and entertainment from Tig. It was beautiful out here, compared to Charming. Dusty, old, boring. The place had its charm, I suppose, but it was nice to get out into wilderness.  
As we finished lunch, Venus telling us a wild and embarrassing tale of something Jax Teller had paid her to do when my mind ventured. It went back to my original plan. None of this was supposed to happen. I was supposed to go to Seattle, and that was pretty much it. None of this. No new friends. No fun. This? This was like some weird dream. I had forgotten my reason for leaving L.A., and I wasn’t really sure if that was a good thing.

“You’re awfully quiet, sweetheart,” Chibs murmured.

I broke away from my thoughts and looked up at him.

“Hip bothering ya again?” he asked, concerned eyes trained on me.

I shook my head. My hip felt better than it had since the wreck.

“No. I’m okay,” I replied.

My reply was not very convincing. Even Juice, who was sitting across from me, looked a little worried.  
Chibs put a friendly arm around my shoulders.

“Cheer up, love. Today’s a good day,” he said.

I bit my lip, resisting the urge to tilt my head and lay it on his shoulder. I felt a little confused. Somewhere in the universe, fate had it in for me. It wasn’t going to make bailing so easy. It was going to throw this club into my life and make me remember my past, but with a more positive twist. Fucking fate…  
I looked up at Juice, who gave me a soft smile. I returned it. I felt at home with these guys, and I wondered what I would decide to do when Chibs announced that the bike was done. I knew I would make it up to them for putting me up, but would I decide to maybe find a home nearby? Or should I just go ahead and be on my own? Back on the lonely path?  
Tig suddenly slapped his hands on the table.

“Alright! Off to piss. Be back,” he said, then stood up.

As he walked by, he pointed to Rat.

“You wanna watch, dontcha?” he teased.

Rat looked disgusted.

“That would do it for you, wouldn’t it?” he asked.

Tig walked around the table and backhanded the back of Rat’s head.

“Shut the hell up!” he snapped.

Rat winced and rubbed the back of his head.

“Perverted fucker,” he grumbled.

We laughed at him as Tig walked off.

“Just for shits and giggles, you should run up behind him and push him,” Juice said to Rat.

Rat rolled his eyes.

“So he can beat my ass?” he asked.

“Hey!” Venus snapped.

We looked up to see her lean and point to her ass.

“This is the only ass that man will be beating,” she said, eyes wide and serious.

Rat cringed and Juice looked away to gag, but it was the look on Chibs’ face that got to me. He rolled his eyes, shook his head, and looked away, trying to forget what he had just heard.

“Shit!” Tig shouted from his spot.

When he started screaming, we looked up to see him backing up and kicking at something.

“CHIBS!” he screamed.

Chibs bolted from the table.

“Juicey, come on,” he said.

Juice jumped up and they took off for Tig.

“What is it?” Venus asked.

I craned my neck, but I couldn’t see anything. So, I stood up.

“Fuck!” Chibs shouted.

“Get it, goddammit!” Tig snarled.

I scrambled up and stood on top of my seat. From this height, I could see it. A snake. Not even thinking about it, I pulled my gun from inside of my jacket, pointed, and pulled the trigger. I saw a small flash of blood, and Tig, Chibs, and Juice stood frozen.

“Holy motherfucking…shit,” Tig breathed.

The boys looked up to see me standing on the table, their jaws wide open, and Tig’s bright blue eyes so wide I could see them from this distance.  
I hopped down from the table, put my gun back into my jacket, and jogged over to them. I didn’t notice Juice and Chibs following me with their eyes, jaws still slack. I walked up to Tig, and looked down at the slain reptile.

“Got it,” I said smugly, glancing up at Tig.

He was staring at me like I spoken in tongues.

“How the bloody fuck did you shoot that thing from that far?” Chibs asked.

I turned to him and shrugged.

“I could barely see it from here,” Juice said.

“Yeah,” Tig agreed, “What? Do you have some superhuman eyesight or something?”

I smiled.

“Nah. Just good aim,” I replied.

“Where’d you learn to shoot like that?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“Practice, I guess,” I replied.

I really didn’t understand why they were so surprised. I had told them I knew how to shoot.

“Fucking sniper,” Juice said.

Chibs raised his eyebrows.

“Fuckin’ impressive,” he said.

I smiled and thanked them.

“Well, before I almost died,” Tig said, “Look what that motherfucker was sleeping in.”

We looked down, following Tig’s pointed finger. My heart jumped into my throat and Juice gasped.

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed.

Tig looked up at us.

“That’s not our shit, either,” he said.

Chibs walked over to it and put his hands on his hips. At his feet, sat a crushed, sun-bleached skull. His eyes flickered up to us.

“Not good,” he said.

Juice was pale, panic settling in.

“What if it was something to do with Clay or something? Some old club shit?” he asked.

Chibs shook his head.

“It could be anything. Anyone,” he said.

Tig looked at him worriedly.

“What do we do?” he asked.

Chibs crossed his arms over his chest.

“What’s right,” he replied.

Tig, Juice and I exchanged worried glances. Right, being what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment, drop me some kudos, and stay tuned for more!


	5. Lost Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chibs has an idea, and problems arise that propel Chibs and Callie closer.

Chibs reached for the tail of the snake Callie had shot and handed it to Juice. Juice immediately recoiled.

“Ah, come on! You’ve handled bodies before! How is this any different?” Chibs barked.

Juice winced. Callie reached for it without hesitation.

“Take it away. Go brag about that kill, sweetheart,” he said.

Callie smiled at the comment, but a look of mischief flashed in her eyes as she looked at Juice. Juice saw it, and knew exactly what was running through her mind.

“Callie, no!”

Callie thrust the snake, or what was left of it, into his face. Juice screamed and took off running, Callie chasing after him. Chibs smiled and crossed his arms over his chest.

“So?” Tig asked quietly.

Chibs cut his eyes at Tig.

“Did you know anythin’ about this? If so, I want to know all of it,” Chibs said lowly.

Tig stared at him in surprise.

“What? You think I had something to do with this?” he hissed, pointing to his own chest.

“I know the shit Clay used to put you up to,” Chibs said, voice growing louder and more menacing.

“Chibs, for Christ’s sake! You think I’m just gonna leave bones laying around? I may be a twisted fuck, but at least I have the decency to bury these poor assholes!”

“Any animal could have tracked this thing up here,” Chibs said.

Tig sighed.

“Look, bro, as far as I know, the only person buried up here is Bobby. If there are more, I had no hand in it. Swear to God,” he replied.

Chibs nodded.

“Could just be an ancient Indian skull or some shit. Something some scientist prick will get hard over,” Tig went on.

Chibs smirked.

“Or you,” he said teasingly.

Tig rolled his eyes.

“Come on, man!”

Chibs laughed and looked down at the broken skull. His amusement fell away as he looked at its face.

“Could have been Clay’s doing, but like I said, I have no idea,” Tig said.

Chibs nodded.

“Go up to the cabin. See if ya can find a shovel,” he ordered.

Tig nodded and jogged back up to the cabin. He found a shovel in an old shed, and quickly brought it back down to Chibs. Chibs thanked him and proceeded to dig a hole underneath a tree. Tig retrieved as many broken pieces of brittle bone as he could find and carried them over to the grave. Once Chibs had dug a hole deep enough, Tig deposited the bone and Chibs crouched down over it.

“I don’t know who you are, but if your death was by SAMCRO, then I apologize,” he said.

He recited something in Gaelic that to Tig, sounded like gibberish. Then, Chibs stood and buried the skull, both men standing in silence. Chibs, out of respect and best wishes for the soul this skull belonged to, and Tig, simply out of speechlessness. He was still unable to comprehend how quickly Callie had reacted to the snake from such a distance. She could have shot his foot off.

“That snake could have bit me, you know?” Tig said, breaking the silence.

Chibs mood changed from mournful to excited.

“She said she knew her things about guns, but I had no idea she could shoot like that,” he said.

“Do you think it was a lucky shot, though?” Tig asked.

Chibs shook his head.

“Someone who knows they might miss would not do what she did. She knew exactly what she was doin’,” he replied.

“What the fuck is she carrying?” Tig asked.

Chibs shrugged.

“Your average handgun,” he replied.

Tig laughed.

“Not that average,” he said.

Chibs smiled.

“You know what I’m thinkin’, though?” he asked.

The VP looked up at him.

“What?” he asked.

Chibs’ smile didn’t falter.

“We need that kind of talent,” he said.

Tig’s eyes widened.

“You mean—“

Chibs just nodded.

“You want to patch her in?” Tig asked in disbelief, “Bro, I don’t know, man.”

“Raise her as a Prospect like we do everyone else. She’s a freshie.”

“Chibs, man, that’s dangerous. I mean, for her. She’s strong, but she doesn’t have the muscle—“

“She’ll have her brothers,” Chibs said with such seriousness, it momentarily took Tig off guard.

He looked away from Chibs and brushed his wild curls back on his head.

“Look, man. In the time Callie’s been here, I’ve kinda grown attached, man. I care for that kid,” he said.

“Me, too,” Chibs said.

Tig watched Chibs carefully.

“I don’t want to see her get hurt,” he said.

“Neither do I,” Chibs said, “We all care about her. She gets along well with all of us, same interests we have, but I can see it in her eyes, Tiggy. Saw it in Juice, I see it in her. She has no home. She’s lost. She’s alone. She needs a family, Tig.”

“I couldn’t agree more, man, but we have never had a woman patched in before,” Tig replied.

Chibs shrugged.

“She’s skilled in other areas, and we could use a good sniper,” he said with a smirk.

Tig sighed.

“Man, I don’t know. I mean, what if she says no? What if she doesn’t want to stay? This isn’t like taking a dog in or moving some street whore to Padilla’s arms, man.”

“We’ll discuss it with her. Let her decide. But for now,” Chibs said.

“Boys, ice cream!” Venus called from the cabin.

Chibs looked up the hill and waved.

“Dessert,” he said.

Tig cracked and smile and they returned to the cabin.

***

He stood, back against the wall, not showing a single dose of fear. He never showed fear. Not to his friends, family, and definitely not to the enemy. Not even with a gun between his eyes.  
I had no choice but to stand back and watch. One man, tall, muscular, covered in tattoos, stood in front of him, ready to pull the trigger. Two others flanked him. I was not sure if they were armed or not, but they most likely were. The fourth man, just a bit taller than me and just as many tattoos as the others, held me back.

“I would never rat,” he said, still not showing fear.

The gunman sniffed. I could not see his face, but I knew that bastard was smiling.

“Yeah, I know,” he replied.

He stood proudly, blue eyes filling with tears.

“Do it. Just know that I never did anything to hurt you. I love you,” he said, then glanced over at me.

It was only then that pain flashed across his features.

“I love you, baby,” he said to me.

I broke down and tried to get away, but the little shit was strong.

The gunman cocked the gun. He kept his eyes on the brother who once loved him.

“This is bullshit! Let him go! He’s done nothing to you!” I screamed, “All he’s ever done is loved you!”

“Callie, shut the fuck up!” the guy to the gunman’s left turned and spat.

“He only has maybe a year left. What’s it matter?” the guy holding me back asked.

I looked my guy over. His once beautiful blue eyes had dulled these passed few months. Shaving was not much of a priority anymore. His black hair had grown and turned red in its process to return to his natural sandy brown. He was deteriorating, but he still remained himself. The loving, amazing person he was. What was happening right now was part of a set up—one we could not prove differently. I knew he would never rat, but his brothers did not.

“I love you, brother,” he said.

There was a brief moment of deafening silence. The silence, however, was broken by a deafening blast.

“No!” I screamed.

The tears flowed as I collapsed in on myself in the darkness. Suddenly, the lights flicked on and someone was grabbing my shoulders.

“Callie!”

I opened my eyes and looked around.

“Callie, baby girl. It’s just a dream. Roll over,” I heard Tig say.

I rolled over to see the SAMCRO VP sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me worriedly. Once I saw him, and realized it was just a nightmare, I covered my face and tried to wipe the tears away.

“Fuck,” I groaned.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he said softly.

I sat up and Tig pulled me into a hug.

“It’s alright,” he said.

“I’m sorry if I woke you,” I murmured.

“Nah. We were kind of up anyway. It’s nearly eleven,” he replied.

I pulled back and looked at him, confused. Then, I glanced over to see the sun shining through the window.

“Oh shit,” I breathed out.

Tig ruffled my hair.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked.

I looked up at him. He was watching me carefully, his crystal blue eyes piercing straight through me.  
Might as well…

“Back home…I was never part of a club, but I was around one. I told Juice this a while back, but…my fiancé was VP of that club. Passed away a couple of years ago,” I replied.

Tig sighed.

“Oh, Callie, hun, I’m sorry,” he said.

I nodded and looked down.

“The cause of death is still a mystery. I know his health was bad, but I’ve had my suspicions. Had a nightmare the club had him killed.”

Tig frowned and pulled me back into a hug.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Anything I can do?”

I shook my head.

“I’ll be okay,” I replied and pulled away, “Just a shitty dream.”

Tig gave me a small smile.

“Well, anything you need, just let me know, ‘kay?” he replied.

Tig reached a finger up and wiped some moisture away from my cheek. I thanked him and glanced at the clock.

“I’m gonna take a shower and get ready. Juice is picking me up. We’re going to Red Woody. Check up on the bike later,” I said.

Tig nodded.

“Well, if you want, I can take ya down there. If your hip’s not bothering ya,” he said.

I sighed and shook my head.

“It’s fine, but I don’t want to get it knotted up again. Probably should wait until Chibs gives the go ahead.”

Tig nodded.

“True. I gotta head to Oakland. You be okay here by yourself until Juice arrives?” he asked.

I nodded and gave him a small smile. Tig patted my back and stood up.

“Keep the doors locked and your gun handy,” he said.

“I will,” I promised.

“Alright. See ya later, sweetheart,” he said, then walked out the door.

“Bye, Tig.”

Tig patted the door frame and walked down the hall. I ran my fingers through my hair and looked up at the window. The sun shone happily, promising a bright day. There were days were I really didn’t like the bright light, and other days I welcomed it. Today was a day were I was happy it was not cloudy.

“I miss you, Z,” I whispered.

I knew he was dying before he even told us. Something had not been right for some time. His mother knew, but he decided to wait it out before telling us. He never told the club, but he told me about a year before he passed away. He didn’t know how long he had left, but he was doing what he could to extend his life, even if was just for a few more months. We were promised by the doctor, that if he chilled out on the drinking and took it easy, dropped a few pounds, he’d make it to 40. It gave us hope, and we did not hesitate to try and start lives together, but Z never made it to 30. He knew, I think, he would not make it to 40. Maybe not even another year. I don’t know how he knew, but he did. But, he always told me he would make sure I knew he was still around. As silly as it sounds, that man was one of the only lights in my life, and it made sense that he was present in the sunlight. It was like he was here to comfort me, too.

***

Tig walked outside and scrolled through his contacts on the pre-pay, clicking on Chibs’ name. He straddled his bike and sat down as the phone rang. It took a moment before Chibs picked up.

“What’s up?” Chibs answered.

“Hey. You at Red Woody yet?” Tig asked.

“On my way there now,” Chibs replied.

“‘Kay, well I’m going to Oakland with the guys. Taking care of some business. Juice is supposed to pick Cal up and bring her to by. You gonna be down there all day?”

“Unless you need me,” Chibs replied.

“Nah, man. We’re good. Listen, do you know anything about the clubs in Southern Cali?”

He heard Chibs sigh.

“I’m not familiar with them. Why?”

“Apparently, Callie had some ties to a club down in L.A. somewhere. Engaged to a VP. Guess she was some guy’s old lady. Well, almost,” Tig replied.

“What do ya mean by that?” Chibs asked.

“He died a couple of years ago. She says they don’t know the reason, but it apparently bothers her enough to give her nightmares. I was in the bathroom when I heard her screaming.”

“Holy shit,” Chibs breathed out.

“Woke up in tears. I talked to her about it.”

“She okay?” Chibs asked worriedly.

Tig sighed.

“Yeah. I felt so bad for her, man,” he replied.

“It’s a shame,” Chibs said, “You think he was killed?”

“Shit, man. I don’t know, but I’m starting to wonder if it has something to do with her leaving and heading north. Like she’s scared she’s next.”

“That’s possible,” Chibs agreed.

“Regardless, she was pretty shaken. I think she may find more comfort in talking to you than me. You may get more information. She trusts you.”

“Tiggy, if she didn’t trust you, she wouldn’t stay there,” Chibs reminded him.

Tig nodded to himself. That was true.

“I guess she trusts Juice. She mentioned this to him. I don’t know how much he knows, but I guess it’s something safe to tell,” he replied.

“Yeah. It’s probably nothing. Sounds to me like it’s her last-ditch effort to mend a broken heart.”

Tig remained silent for a moment, knowing Chibs was most likely right.

“Yeah,” he replied quietly, “I’m just worried about her, man. She was pretty upset.”

“I’ll talk to her. Don’t worry about it,” Chibs replied.

“‘Kay, thanks, man,” Tig replied, and with that, hung up.

He was not sure if he was suspicious of her. He knew she was not the cause for any trouble, but he still worried she may not stay in the green much longer.

***

Juice and I sat in on a couch with his laptop and a notebook, going over some of the issues with my bike. Apparently, it had not been all shits and giggles getting that bike back in shape.

“I don’t know what the deal is. Chibs is going to look at it. When it comes to bikes, he has the magic touch,” Juice said.

I leaned forward, propping my elbows on my thighs.

“Well, what happened?” I asked.

“We were ready to start it this morning. Quinn was going to test it, make sure everything checks out, and nothing. We filled it up and everything,” he explained.

I leaned back and sighed.

“Damn.”

Juice gave me a soft smile.

“We’ll get it. Guess you may be sticking with us a bit longer, huh?”

I laughed.

“Yeah. It’s okay,” I replied.

Juice nodded. He looked around the room. Within the building, Lyla was working on a set, and Chibs, who had only briefly made an appearance, was in the office, busy with maps and phone calls. Club business. I didn’t ask, but it seemed to be frying him—whatever tedious task it was.

“We did run into a problem that I didn’t want to tell Chibs. He’d bust a nut,” he said quietly.

I tilted my head to the side.

“What?” I asked.

“One of the parts we ordered came in defective and the assholes would not refund it. Apparently, the warranty was void because we tweaked it. I told them we didn’t, but they didn’t believe us. Quinn said a minor tweak would fix the issue, and it usually does, but not this time.”

“Ah shit.”

“I went ahead and put the new one on my dime. Spare Chibs the drama,” he said.

I groaned.

“Juice, let me pay for that one,” I insisted.

Juice smiled and stubbornly shook his head.

“It really was no problem. Don’t worry about it,” he said.

I smiled at him. There was no arguing with these guys.

A knock from the front door alerted us, and one of the girls went to open it. Juice and I looked up to a mailman walk in with a large rectangle in his hands. The actress greeted him and lead him over to us. Lyla approached, arms crossed over her chest.

“Good morning. Can we help you?” she asked.

“Good morning,” the mailman replied, “I’m looking for a,” he looked at the package in his hands, reading the label, “Filip Telford.”

Juice and I exchanged confused glances.

“I’ll go get him,” I said.

Juice nodded. I stood and headed for the office.

“He’s in his office. He’ll be right out,” I heard Juice say.

I jogged down the hall and walked into the office. Chibs was sitting at the head of the desk, papers spread everywhere, wearing his glasses and a concentrated look on his face.

“Hey,” I said.

Chibs looked up and his hard focus softened.

“Hey, darlin’. What’s up?”

I jabbed my thumb towards the hall.

“You have mail,” I replied.

Chibs narrowed his eyes, confused. I shrugged.

“Mailman was asking for you,” I explained.

Chibs removed his glasses and pushed away from the desk.

“He in uniform?” he asked

I nodded. Why wouldn’t he be?

“Was it a package?” he asked.

“Just a really large envelope wrapped in plastic,” I replied.

“Flat?” he asked.

“Pretty much,” I replied.

“Why don’t you go and see for yourself, Filip?” I thought impatiently.

This was unlike him, to ask so many questions.

Chibs sighed and stood up.

“You carryin’?” he asked, walking over to me.

“Always. Why?” I replied.

Chibs raised an eyebrow at me.

“SAMCRO does not get mail through the system, if we get any at all. And my mail goes to my mailbox at home,” he replied.

It suddenly dawned on me, and I understood his point.

“Oooh. Right,” I replied.

“Where’s Juice?” he asked.

“Out by the bar with Lyla and Mr. McFreely.”

Chibs smiled as he reached into the pocket of his jacket for his gun.

“Safety off. Stay behind me,” he ordered.

I nodded and reached for the weapon concealed under my flannel shirt, blindly disabling the safety. Chibs walked ahead of me, and I closely behind. If there were any problems, I wanted to be blocked by him, but also close enough to defend him if I needed to.  
We walked out to the open bar area, where Lyla was waiting, and Juice was sitting on the couch, nervously tapping his fingers on his kneee. The mailman was still there, waiting patiently.

“Filip Telford?” he asked.

“Aye,” Chibs replied.

The mailman smiled and offered him his mail.

“Got some mail for you, Mr. Telford,” he said.

Chibs walked up to him and stared at him suspiciously. Juice got up and walked over to me as I seated myself on a nearby barstool, sticking close to the Prez.

“My mail usually comes to my mailbox at home,” he said lowly.

The mailman laughed nervously.

“Yes, sir, but I had special instruction to deliver it to this address,” he replied.

Chibs remained silent, not buying a word.

“And by protocol, I’m required to deliver this personally to the recipient,” he finished.

Chibs let out an aggravated sigh and took the package. I craned my head to read it. I wasn’t meaning to be nosy, but I was curious to see why this thing was so special. I could not see much around his arm, other than “First Class Mail” and a sticker, the return address being some law firm in Belfast, Ireland. I wondered what the hell Chibs could have coming in from Ireland. I knew he was Scottish, but Ireland was just next door.

“Thank-you,” he said.

The mailman smiled.

“You have a good day,” he said.

Chibs glanced up at him.

“You, too,” he said.

The mailman spun on his heel and left the warehouse. Chibs waited until he was gone before turning and setting the package in front of me.

“Juice, run and find Tig’s EMF detector. Should be in a drawer in the office,” he said.

Juice nodded and obeyed. Chibs looked down at the package, then to me.

“Not just for huntin’ ghosts, Callie girl,” he said.

I smiled and Chibs patted my shoulder. Juice returned promptly and tossed a silver box to the Prez. Chibs caught it, flipped the switch with his fingernail, and ran the detector over the package thoroughly, making sure nothing but paper was inside. When the device did not alarm, he shut it off, set it aside, picked up the package to open it.

“Watch it be a call to jury duty or something,” Juice said jokingly.

“They can kiss the whitest part of my ass,” Chibs said, making Juice and I laugh.

Chibs pulled a small stack of papers from the plastic and began reading them. His expression went from annoyed to shock in seconds. Juice and I exchanged worried glances. Chibs' eyes quickly scanned the first page, then he flipped through the rest.

“What is it?” Juice asked

Chibs skimmed over the second page, then flipped back to the first. He blew his cheeks out and looked up from the papers.

“Holy shit,” he breathed out.

“What’s going on, man?” Juice asked worriedly.

Chibs' eyes flickered up to us.

“You two go find somethin’ to do for awhile. Shoot targets or somethin’,” he ordered.

Chibs turned away from us and began to walk towards the hall.

“Hey! Is something wrong?” Juice asked.

Chibs suddenly spun around, brown eyes wide and cold.

“Get out,” he said dangerously.

He turned around again and returned to the office, leaving Juice, Lyla and I to stare after him in shock.  
Juice looked to me with big, worried eyes.

“I’ve never seen him do that before,” he said quietly.

I bit my lip in thought.

“You guys better listen to him,” Lyla warned.

I sighed and looked to Juice.

“What do you think?” I asked.

Juice shrugged.

“I think we should go shoot some shit. Let him cool down,” he replied.

Juice grabbed the keys to the van and his cut, slinging it on.

“Lyla, will you keep an eye on him?” he asked.

Lyla nodded, and I followed Juice back outside to the van.

Juice and I decided to head back out to the cabin. There was plenty of room and things to shoot, and like two little kids let loose to play, we knew we could find plenty to do. Besides, no one could come up there and bother us.  
Juice and I ripped some paper from notebooks inside, and used black markers and thumbtacks to make targets and post them to trees. We had several little contests, seeing who could shoot the bulls-eye more times. I won, beating Juice by two shots. He was mad, and tried again just to see if he could do better. Unfortunately for him, he did worse.

“Okay! Fuck this!” he said, raising his hands in the air.

I just laughed as I watched him walk away, trying to calm himself.

“How do you do it, Cal?” he asked.

I laughed.

“Practice, Juice. That’s all it takes,” I replied.

Juice snorted.

“I’ve been shooting guns since before I could drive. I’ve had plenty of practice.”

I smiled.

“Apparently not enough. You need to focus more,” I replied.

“Then by all means, teach me, senpai,” he said jokingly.

I laughed as Juice bowed to me.

“It’s not fucking hard, man,” I said, walking around him.

I scanned the ground and found a beer bottle cap from the picnic the other day. I picked it up from where it had been stomped into the dirt, wiped it off, then walked back over to the trees where Juice and I had posted our homemade targets. I set the cap down, label facing up, then pointed to it.

“Shoot it. Dead on,” I ordered.

Juice approached me and looked down to see where I had place the cap.

“That little thing?” he asked.

I nodded. Juice shrugged.

“From how far away?” he asked.

I looked down at the cap.

“I’d say a yard,” I replied.

When I practiced my aim, I used to shoot bullet casings right on the primer. Big and small casings. This, to me, was nothing. To Juice, it was nothing as well, or so he thought.

“This won’t be hard, Cal,” he assured me, “I got this.”

I crossed my arms and stood back.

“We’ll see, grasshopper,” I sang.

Juice laughed and took his stance. He pointed his gun, and I knew immediately that he was going to mess up. I could see it in his eyes. He was getting cocky. Ready to show out—and miss.  
Juice fired, and the dirt next to the cap shot into the air.

“Shit!” he hissed, “Okay, I got this.”

He tried again, firing once, twice, and clipping the cap on the third. When he turned around, this bewildered look on his face, it was all I could do not to laugh at him.

“Is this some kind of joke?” he asked.

I laughed at that.

“It’s just a bottle cap, Juice. Shoot it!”

Juice growled and turned back to the cap. He then let loose on the piece of aluminum, clipping it a few times, his concentration now gone. It occurred to me that today would not be the day my advice would be digested. The boy’s attention span was too short.  
I pulled out my gun, locked onto the abused silver cap, and shot it. The bullet hit the cap and flew off into a patch of tall grass. Juice froze, then turned to me, his mouth wide open in shock. He looked at his feet, then up to me.

“Jesus Christ, Callie!” he exclaimed.

I smiled smugly.

“Practice, Juicey boy,” I said.

Juice smiled and shook his head.

“Fuck this. I have a better idea,” he said.

I tilted my head to the side.

“There’s a fence down the hill near the back of the property. Let’s get some of the leftover beer cans, set ‘em up and do some damage,” he suggested.

I nodded.

“Sounds like a plan,” I agreed.

Juice smiled and waved me over. We walked back to the cabin and grabbed about eight crushed beer and pop cans that had never made it into the trash. We then toted them down the hill, passed the area where Tig found the skull, and to an old wooden fence that looked like something straight out of a western. Two pieces of wood ran horizontally through identical fence posts, creating the flimsiest barrier known to man. Good for shooting cans, though.

“Let’s see if you can hit these,” I teased as I set up my cans.

Juice rolled his eyes.

“Hey! I’ll get it. You wanna race? See who can shoot theirs down the fastest?” he asked.

I snorted. He had no idea who he was challenging.

“You sure you want to do that?” I tested.

Juice looked a little nervous.

“Why?” he asked.

I didn’t look away from him as I raised my gun and put bullet holes in all four cans, aiming out of the corner of my eye. Juice’s eyes were as wide as baseballs and all he could do for a moment was stare in surprise.

“Fuck, Cal. That’s some Blazing Saddles shit right there,” he said.

I laughed and twirled my gun.

“That’s why the club called me Cowgirl Callie,” I said, turning to admire my work.

Juice snorted.

“Are you serious?” he giggled.

“Yeah,” I replied, “but I thought it sounded like a pornstar name so I dropped that shit.”

Juice just laughed.

“It does,” he agreed.

I walked up to the fence and shook it, testing it for sturdiness. The thing looked unstable, but it was as steady as could be, so I turned around and parked it on the top rail. I turned my gun on safety and placed in back inside my jacket. Juice walked up to the fence and sat down beside me.

“I’m going to miss you when you leave, if that doesn’t sound creepy or anything,” Juice said.

I looked up at him.

“Things are only awkward if you make them awkward,” I said.

Juice smiled.

“True,” he agreed, “But, I do like having you around.”

I smiled at that.

“Why’s that?” I asked.

Juice stifled a laugh.

“You’re the only one who treats me like a friend. I mean, Tig and Chibs do, too, but Chibs treats me more like a son, and Tig likes to take the piss out of me. Hap scares me a little. The others and I get along, but no one has really been an equal, you know?”

I nodded. I understood where he was coming from.

“The bike will be finished soon, and I’m sure you want to be on your way, but I wish you could stay longer,” he admitted.

I sighed. He really was a sweet kid.

“Yeah. I like hanging out with you guys, too. You’ve been a good friend. You and Chibs. Tig and Venus have been more than great to me. Regardless of any bullshit, you’re good people,” I said.

Juice smiled at that. I looked down at my hands, clasping them together. I really was going to miss these guys. I had not realized that saying goodbye was going to be a little difficult. It had been a long time since I had interactions with people on this level. My friends—the guys from the club, had been distant since Z passed, and my parents were long gone. I had nobody, but I had not counted on it not staying that way. I missed the feeling of family with a club. Friendship.

“You probably have business up in Seattle, though,” Juice said.

I felt my mood begin to sour. Business? What business? I had nothing to truly do up there. Visit my parents’ gravesite, but other than that…who am I kidding? There was nothing but a dead end there. I was expecting go see the end of the road. Might as well, you know? Now…now that I met the boys of SAMCRO, I didn’t want to leave. I liked hanging around these guys. I liked being able to call someone a friend again.

“Not immediate business,” I said, looking up at the high-noon sun.

Juice didn’t reply.

Up the hill, we heard the roar of a motorcycle. Juice and I looked at each other.

“Chibs?” I asked.

“Maybe. Let’s go!” he said excitedly.

We jumped down from the fence and bolted up the hill. When we jogged around to the side of the cabin, we were surprised to find, not Chibs, but Tig dismounting his bike.

“Hey, you two. Chibby said you guys might be out here,” he said.

“Yeah, he kind of shooed us away,” I replied.

Tig nodded.

“We were just getting some target practice in. What’s up?” Juice asked.

Tig jabbed his thumb towards the van.

“Get Callie back to the docks. I need you on a run,” he said.

Juice nodded.

“No problem,” he replied.

Juice walked off to the van, and I began to follow when Tig took my arm.

“Hey, wait a sec,” he said softly.

I stopped and turned to face him. Tig looked up at Juice, making sure he was out of hearing range.

“What do you know about the letter Chibs got this morning?” he asked, not menacingly, but a little concerned.

I shrugged.

“Not much,” I replied, “After Chibs opened it, he kicked Juice and I out.”

Tig nodded and put his hands on his hips.

“That’s what Lyla told me,” he said, “Ran by there looking for Juice and she filled me in.”

I nodded.

“Chibs didn’t say anything about it. Seemed worried, though. I did see the return label. Ireland,” I replied.

Tig’s face fell.

“Ah, shit,” he groaned.

Worry washed over me. I didn’t like that reaction.

“What’s wrong? Is he in trouble?” I asked.

Tig shook his head.

“No idea. Could be anything. Listen, Juice is going to drop you off. I want you to keep an eye on Chibs, okay?”

I nodded.

“Alright. Venus will come by after she gets off to pick you up,” he finished.

“Got it,” I replied.

With that, Tig gave me a quick hug and we parted.

“Be good, sweetheart,” he said.

I smiled.

“I’ll try,” I replied.

Tig laughed. I jogged over to the van and hopped in, Juice following Tig back into town.

After Juice dropped me off at Red Woody, trading the van for his bike and following Tig down the road, I walked in to see a couple of girls is slutty elf costumes. I rolled my eyes and retreated down the hall in search of Chibs. His bike was still here, so I assumed he was around.  
My assumptions were correct. When I walked inside the office, I found Chibs slumped over the table with a shot glass in his hand and a bottle of bourbon sitting within hands reach. The papers from this morning were placed in front of him.

“Hey,” I said softly.

Chibs looked up, and I noticed he looked like a kicked dog. Whatever the letter had been was bad news, but what worried me more was the fact that his eyes were pink. Had he been crying?

“Hey, darlin’,” he said, voice gravely from disuse, or overuse.

I slowly walked over the threshold and placed my hands in my pockets. Chibs leaned back and looked me over, concerned.

“You okay?” he asked.

I narrowed my eyes, confused by his question.

“I was fixing to ask you the same thing,” I replied.

Chibs sighed and looked away, staring at the table’s contents. He then relaxed and patted the spot beside him.

“Sit down, Callie,” he said.

I walked over and pulled the chair out, sitting down at the spot reserved for Tig. He picked up the papers, set them in front of me, then downed a shot of bourbon. I picked the papers up and began to read them, trying to comprehend what it was. When I realized what I was reading, my jaw dropped, surprised by not only what I was reading, but what I had never known about Chibs Telford.

“My life in Ireland,” he said, “is officially over. That’s a request from my wife’s lawyer. Divorce.”

I placed the papers down.

“Oh, Chibs. I’m so sorry,” I replied.

Chibs nodded.

“It was comin’,” he said, “Me and Fiona have been separated for years. Now that dust has settled, and my daughter is going to university, it’s okay to go ahead and make the split legal.”

I sighed and straightened the papers.

“Well, you know, that’s how it usually goes. Parents wait until the kid goes off to college before calling their lawyers,” I said.

Chibs nodded knowingly.

“Aye,” he replied.

I looked up at him. Chibs was a strong guy, that much was certain. Could be downright lethal if his buttons were pressed, but he was also very loyal to his friends and the club, and loving. I had no doubt he was loyal to his family, and loved them endlessly. It was no wonder he had sent Juice and I out. This was crushing him.

“Are…are you going to fight it?” I asked.

Chibs smiled and shook his head. He moved the shot glass to the side and clasped his hands together.

“I love Fiona, and I love Kerrianne. I love my family, but for me and Fi…we’re not in love anymore. Called Kerrianne this mornin’. Fi has a new man that’s been really good to her. They’re happy. Her studies are good.”

“It’s not ending in bad blood, then?” I asked.

Chibs shook his head.

“No. That was settled a long time ago. This is just tying up loose ends. I love them, and I’ll always be there for them when they need me, but it’s time. They already have my signature.”

I watched Chibs for a moment. He was heartbroken, that much was certain. He seemed sincere about his feelings for his family, but a part of him was severed. At least, though, his family was alive and well.

“Well, it’s still tough,” I said.

Chibs nodded. I leaned forward and folded my arms on the table. Chibs was looking down in deep thought, his long brown and silver hair falling in his face.

“Listen, I know I’m probably not the first person you would want to talk to, but if you need someone to talk to about this, I'm here, okay? Even if you just need to piss and moan.”

Chibs looked up at me. I could not read him for a moment. His face was hard, but his troubled eyes lit up for a moment and he gave me a small smile. He reached a hand out and grasped one of my hands.

“You’re a sweetheart, Callie girl,” he said.

I smiled shyly.

Chibs stood, took the papers and slid them in a large envelope, already addressed to Ireland. He licked the flapped, sealed it, then patted my shoulder.

“Come on. Let’s walk down and mail these and go grab a burger,” he said.

I smiled and stood, following him out the door.

After stopping at a mailbox near a delivery service place, Chibs and I walked down to a diner. I looked around the little town, imagining living here. It was definitely not something I was used to, but I knew I would have as much of a hard time parting with as I would this club. Maybe going down a dead end road could afford a small side trip.

“Hey, Chibs?” I asked.

Chibs, who looked a little more refreshed after getting out of the warehouse, looked down at me.

“Yeah?” he asked.

He draped an arm around my shoulders and playfully yanked me to him, making me trip over my feet.

“I was talking to Juice,” I began.

“Oh, Christ,” he playfully groaned.

I laughed.

“You know a lot of shit comes out of that boy’s mouth,” he carried on, then looked down at me, “Are ya crazy?”

He tightened his arm around my neck, not hurting me, just playing. I laughed and grabbed at the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Maybe,” I said.

He didn’t loosen his hold.

“I was wondering, if I decided to stay, if you could help me find a place?” I asked.

Chibs shuddered and stopped in his tracks. I stopped and watched him worriedly. He listened his hold and turned to fully face me, placing his hand on my shoulder.

“In Charming?” he asked.

“Unless I am crazy,” I replied.

He cracked a smile.

“No, no, no. I just—you want to stay?” he asked in surprise.

I shrugged.

“Juice was talking about missing me when I leave, and I thought, I don’t know. Maybe Charming isn’t so bad,” I replied.

Chibs removed his hand and placed his hands on his hips.

“What about Seattle?” he asked.

I shrugged again.

“There’s nothing there for me but a couple of tombstones,” I replied.

He watched me carefully, deep in thought. I had a feeling he was going to deter me from the idea. If he did, I’d know whether to stay or leave.  
He gestured with a slight tilt of his head.

“Come here, Callie,” he said.

I swallowed nervously as he placed a hand on my back and led me to a bench. We sat down, and he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his jeans and watching me with a deadly serious expression.

“I would not make a bit of difference to me why you decided to leave L.A., but I want to know some truth here, Callie. Are you runnin’ from somethin’?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“I told you. I left on my own. No one is around to tell me to stay anywhere or leave. My parents are six feet under in Washington. I was tied to a club back home years ago, but since then that tie has…died. I’m just moving on,” I replied.

Chibs watched me with this unsettling sympathetic look on his face.

“Callie, I’m a bit worried about you. Don’t hate Tig, but he told me about the nightmare you had this morning. Told me what it was about,” he replied.

I slowly looked away and closed my eyes. Goddammit, Tigger. I wasn’t mad, of course. I probably scared him enough to call Chibs. I didn’t blame him, but I wasn’t ready for Chibs to find out about Z.

“I know what you’re thinking, Chibs—that I’m looking for protection or something. He’s been dead for almost six years. If I had beef, it would have exploded. I’m not bringing danger to SAMCRO or Charming. I just had to get away from the memories.”

Chibs sighed and gave me a soft smile.

“Darlin’, I’m not accusing ya of anythin’. I’m more worried about your well-bein’,” he replied.

I furrowed my eyebrows.

“I care about you. I don’t want to see you in any pain. If you’re havin’ a hard time with mental bullshit, you can talk to me, okay?”

I stared at him for a long time, trying to string together words that were relevant. I knew who he reminded me of, in the weirdest way. Z. Chibs reminded me of Z. Loving, do anything for you, great listener, the greatest best friend in the world. Chibs, of course, was a different world, but Z was a beautiful man with a beautiful soul, and Chibs, not far from that.  
I nodded.

“Okay,” I said quietly.

He leaned closer to me and raised an eyebrow.

“You have made an impression on us, too, sweetheart. You’re a friend, and I watch out for my friends,” he said.

That made me smile and sudden warmth spread through me. It had been a long time since I had heard something like that, and hearing it from Chibs meant a hell of a lot.  
Chibs cracked a smile and leaned over, pulling me into a hug and kissing my cheek.

“Thank-you,” I murmured.

“You’re welcome, darlin’. Tomorrow, we can go house huntin’ if you want,” he said.

I laughed at that. Chibs gave me a gentle squeeze before pulling away.

“I guess this town grew on ya, huh?” he asked, standing and holding his hand out for me.

I took it and stood up.

“Yeah,” I replied.

Chibs smiled at that.

It wasn’t so much Charming, as it was more so these boys. Chibs in particular. Maybe it was that Scottish charm, or the face that he had saved me, but whatever it was, they had grown into my skin—not that I minded a bit. I had found friendship again, and maybe soon, a home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave some love!


	6. The News Report

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are going along smoothly, until history shows its ugly face.

“How much are you in the hole with my bike?”

Chibs shut the door and glared at me. We were sitting in the driveway at Tig’s. It was early—too goddamn early to be awake, but Chibs called me at the break of dawn, telling me to get up so I could come down and help with the bike. I, of course, had no problem with helping, but the opportunity to tease the Prez was always one I seized.

“Ya picked a money pit there, darlin’,” he sighed.

I laughed and buckled myself in. Chibs started the truck and backed it out of the driveway.

“I told you,” I replied.

“Aye. I got it handled,” he said.

I nodded and looked out at the houses of Tig’s neighborhood passing by. I didn’t like that he still insisted on paying for it, and that he was probably thousands in the hole, not counting the part Juice snuck in.

“Hey,” he said, gently tapping my jaw with his knuckles.

I turned and looked up at him.

“Don’t ya worry about that bike, ‘kay? Or the cash,” he said.

I nodded. Chibs stopped at a stoplight before turning onto the street. As we stopped, he turned his head and looked me up and down before smiling.

“What?” I asked.

His smile didn’t falter as the light turned green and we turned.

“We gotta get ya back on that bike,” he said, stifling a chuckle.

I smirked and leaned over, resting my elbow on the door.

“Hot biker chicks. Rare in these parts,” he said lowly, glancing over at me.

I stared at him, not sure how to react. Was he messing with me—trying to get a rise out of me? Was he serious? Was he just fucking around?

“Hot?” I asked in surprise.

Chibs smiled and looked over at me.

“I want to see you ride that monster,” he said.

I could only shake my head and try not to laugh. The fucking Scottish bastard was flirting! Holy. Shit!

“Shut the fuck up,” I laughed.

Chibs just grinned and turned his attention to the road.

“Ah, come on, lovely. Ain’t no reason to get all fussy about it. It’s a compliment,” he said.

I bit my lip and turned away, shaking my head and hiding my face. When I saw my reflection in the rearview mirror, I was beet red. Jesus Christ.

“Calling it as you see it?” I asked.

We pulled up to another stoplight, TM just on the next block. He leaned over to me, brown eyes peering up over his sunglasses. I couldn’t say anything. He was messing with me, I’m sure, but I didn’t know if it was my ego or something else that made me not care. I hated to admit it, but I liked this flirty Chibs. The glasses and leather jacket didn’t help. Bastard.

“Just bein’ nice,” he replied.

I cracked a smile.

“You are something else,” I said.

Chibs pulled forward as the light turned green. He reached a hand over and messed up my hair, which at the moment, at its short length, was not hard to mess up. I laughed and slapped his arm away.

“Shithead,” I laughed.

Of course, that started a three-handed slapping fight that elicited stares from Juice as we drove into the compound and around the parked bikes. I didn’t care, though. I enjoyed messing with him.

***

“You think we need to take it in to a specialist?” Rane asked.

Chibs and I looked up from my bike and stared at him.

“It’s not a goddamn human. It’s a bike,” Chibs growled, “Not much different from a Harley.”

I held a wrench in place while Chibs tried to yank something else.

“Damn Suzukis, bro,” Happy said from his perch on a barstool.

“Looks like something out of Transformers,” Juice said.

I smiled at that.

“Keep a tight hold on that, darlin’,” Chibs said.

I gripped the wrench and pulled back as the bolt tried to resist.

“Yeah, but it’s a gorgeous bike,” Tig said, walking by and placing a hand on the side.

“Be more gorgeous if we can sort out this electrical bullshit,” Chibs complained, “I’ll have to get a diagram. Can you handle that for me, Juicey?”

Juice nodded.

“I’ll get right on it,” he said, then turned on his heel, “I’ll hit the bike shops. See what I can dig up. If not, I’ll order a manual.”

“Get it,” Chibs replied.

Juice nodded, and walked out of the garage and across the compound to his bike. Chibs groaned and clenched his teeth. The part snapped into place, jerking the both of us. However, he got the part on. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“And that,” Chibs said, eying our work before looking up at me and smiling, “Deserves a high-five.”

I smiled and reached up to high-five him. Chibs chuckled and yanked me into a headlock.

“If ya move here, maybe ya can get on as a mechanic?” he asked quietly in my ear.

I just laughed.

“Ya know your shit,” he said.

Tig walked up beside Chibs and smacked his arm. We looked over to see the VP glaring at Chibs dangerously. Chibs laughed and let me go, only to grasp my shoulders.

“What?” he asked.

Tig’s eyes softened and he shook his head.

“Nothin’,” he replied, then turned to me, “Ready to get back on this speed demon, baby girl?”

I smiled and nodded.

“We should race,” Chibs said.

“Oh, yeah right,” Tig argued, “You’ll end up laying that Dyna down up against this.”

“Oh yeah?” Chibs challenged.

The two began arguing, and I just shook my head.

“If you’re just getting back with us, we’re covering the story of the gang-related homicide in Huntington Beach, California” said a DJ on the radio.

At the mentioning of Huntington Beach, I perked up.

“Whoa! Hey, Happy? Can you turn that up?” I asked.

Happy shrugged.

“You got it,” he said.

Happy reached over and turned the knob on the radio. Chibs and Tig stopped their play-fighting to listen.

“Last night, the body of Alan James Clarence, better known as AJ, was found under the pier in Huntington Beach, California. Police say the body was found by a surfer who claims a seven was carved in the victims chest.”

I felt my heart nearly skid to a stop.

“Damn,” Happy commented.

“Why a seven?” Tig asked.

“Clarence was a known member of Freak Riders, a motorcycle club hailing from Long Beach, California. Officials say the marking of a seven is characteristic of another club called The VII in Huntington Beach. Police have questioned members of The VII, but they’re saying that alibis of the members check out. Officials are looking into a group called Project XMC, a group of young adults who started an organization back a few years ago to help rid California of illegal M/C activities, as well as several nearby clubs for more leads.”

The DJs went on to say how terrible and frightening the murder was, especially in a place like Huntington Beach.

“Jesus,” Tig said.

I let out a shallow breath, not sure what to think. I knew the Freak Riders, and I knew The VII. None of this made sense.

“Holy shit,” I whispered.

I set the wrench down and pulled away from Chibs’ grasp.

“I need a break,” I said.

The boys said nothing as I walked around the bike, passed Happy, and through the door to the office. Inside, it was quiet, and I was able to think properly. I sat down on the plaid couch next to the desk and put my face in my hands. I couldn’t believe this. The Freak Riders were good people. Crazy, but they were not outlaw. Sure, they did an illegal thing here and there, but in the end, they were saints. And The VII?  
The office door opened and I looked up to see Chibs come in, a worried look on his face.

“Hey,” he said gently, “Too intense out there?”

I gave him a small smile and shook my head. He moved over towards me and sat down next to me, slinging an arm around my shoulders.

“What’s upsettin’ ya, sweetheart? Was it that report?” he asked.

I nodded. Chibs frowned.

“Did ya know the kid?” he asked.

I nodded again. I pulled my absent gaze away from the concrete floor and looked up at him.

“There’s some things I need to tell you. I’m not in trouble. I haven’t done anything,” I began, “It’s all going to sound suspicious but everything I’ve told you is the truth.”

“Why would I think any differently?” Chibs asked.

I let out a shaky breath.

“I don’t want to lose your trust,” I replied.

Chibs reached up and smoothed down my undoubtedly messy and nasty hair.

“You have it, darlin’,” he said.

He smiled, eliciting a shy smile from me.

“I don’t want everyone knowing. Not yet. This stays between me, you and Tig. He deserves to know, too,” I said.

Chibs nodded.

“Want me to get him?” he asked.

I nodded. Chibs stood from his seat and walked over to the door. Through the window, I could see him standing, talking to Happy while Rane and Rat worked on the bike. Chibs opened the door and poked his head out.

“Hey, Tiggy,” he called, then whistled.

Tig spun around as Chibs slipped back in. Tig walked to the door. Chibs resumed his spot beside me. Tig walked in and slipped his thumbs through his belt loops.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Chibs gestured to the door.

“Lock it,” he said.

Tig looked unsure, but turned around and locked the door.

“Want the blinds closed, too?” he asked.

“Please,” Chibs replied.

Tig walked over to the window and closed the blinds, shutting out the garage. He then looked over at me, concerned.

“What’s wrong, Cal?” he asked.

I looked down and wrung my hands.

“I have something have to tell you two. Figured since you guys were nice enough to take care of me this passed week, I should tell you everything. Just in case shit somehow hits the fan,” I replied.

Tig walked over to the desk and sat down in the chair.

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“I just want you guys to know my story just in case…just, just in case. I don’t want you guys suspicious of me or to not trust me. You guys have been amazing and I don’t want you two thinking badly of me,” I replied.

Tig’s eyes, though blue really did not give that sort of “puppy dog” look, went soft and caring.

“We won’t think badly of you, baby girl. What did you want to tell us?” he asked.

I looked from Tig to Chibs, then back.

“Everything,” I replied, “So long as it doesn’t get to the rest of the club. Not yet, anyway. I trust you two the most.”

“Your secrets are safe with us, darlin’,” Chibs said.

I took a deep breath. My story held nothing against me, but they needed to know about why I was tied to Southern Cali M/Cs, and why Project XMC could be potentially dangerous to SAMCRO. I was growing to love these guys, and any kind of intel or protection I could offer, I was giving it to them. It was the least I could do for what they’ve done for me.

“Okay. I knew AJ. The guy they found under the pier. He wasn’t a close friend or anything. Just a friend of a friend. I’m from Huntington Beach. Grew up there. Went to school there. My parents are from Seattle, moved to San Fran, where I was born. Later moved to Huntington. I was friends with five guys. Now known as The VII. That’s the club my fiancé rolled with. Good, amazing guys. Would never hurt anyone, which is why this shit with AJ is so crazy.”

“So, do you think it was a set up?” Tig asked.

“Exactly. Freak Riders and The VII were allies. They were good friends. The Prez of The VII and the Prez of the Freaks were in business together. Restaurant business. Clean shit. They never had a reason to hurt each other. They were all brothers. Freaks and VII’s. The old ladies of both clubs were all good friends. We were family. I was the only one who rode, though. Zero bought me my first bike. After that I was hooked.”

“Zero was your fiancé?” Tig asked.

I smiled and nodded.

“He was my fucking best friend in the entire world. We were close in school. Started dating in high school. When we turned 21, the club was formed. It was just something to do that didn’t involve stealing alcohol or terrorizing neighborhoods, you know? We were just motorcycle enthusiasts. Soon became a big deal, though. Had to do what they had to do to make ends meet, but we pulled through. Never killed anyone unless they had to. I know they would never kill friends. This deal with the Freaks is bullshit. Had to be Project XMC.”

“What the hell is Project XMC?” Tig asked.

I smiled.

“Bunch of yuppie frat boys trying to save the world. XMC. X for exterminate, MC for motorcycle clubs.”

“Jesus,” Chibs breathed out.

I nodded.

“That’s why I’m telling you guys this. They’ll take out the southern M/Cs before the move farther north. I’m sure they already have wind of SAMCRO after last year. I wanted to tell you so you wouldn’t think I had anything to do with it—that I might have been keeping secrets. I have no ties to The VII. No ties to anyone. I haven’t spoken to anyone since Zero passed away.”

Chibs and Tig nodded.

“How did he die, sweetheart?” Chibs asked, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

I glanced up at him.

“Heart failure. At least, that was the end result. We knew he didn’t have much time left. He told me about a year before he passed. Never told the club. Too much pain. He had time left to live, and even more with medication and a few lifestyle changes. The drinking, for a start,” I took a deep breath, “He never made it to 30. Something happened. Passed in his sleep.”

Tig leaned back in his chair and placed his hands on his head.

“I tried to stay. None of the guys would talk to me. They shut me out. Eventually, after driving passed that cemetery and seeing the tombstone, I couldn’t handle it. I had to leave. I sold my apartment, quit my job, decided to just go and see where the road takes me. Thought I’d go see my parents along the way.”

Chibs sighed and kissed my temple before pulling me into a hug.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he said lowly.

Tig stood up from his chair, squeezed in between me and the arm of the couch, and put his arms around me and Chibs.

“Don’t worry about a damn thing, baby. We got your back,” he said.

I turned my head to look at the VP.

“Are you serious?” I asked in disbelief.

They were sweet guys who by now, I considered friends, but they had only known me for a little over a week. Just like that, they’d have my back?

“Absolutely,” Tig replied.

“As a heart attack,” Chibs added.

I looked between the men, not sure what to say.

“How long as he been gone?” Tig asked.

“Six years,” I replied.

Tig nodded.

“Regardless of time, if shit hits the fan, someone will reconnect you with the M/C,” Chibs said.

“We won’t let that happen,” Tig said.

“No, you have us. We like ya. We want ya here. You saved Tiggy’s life the other day at the picnic.”

“Well, maybe just my foot,” Tig said.

“Nevertheless,” Chibs said, “We care about ya. As far as I’m concerned, if any of this bullshit in south Cali tries to find ya, we’ll help ya.”

I nodded. Tig kissed my cheek and they hugged me again.

Outside, Juice pulled in.

“He must have found a diagram for the electrical,” Tig said.

Chibs nodded.

“I’ll go see,” I said.

I stood up, Chibs patting my back. I walked over to the door, but before I opened it, I turned back to them.

“Thank-you,” I said.

They smiled and Chibs nodded to me.

“You’re welcome, darlin’,” he said.

I smiled and unlocked the door to return to the garage.

***

Tig stood slowly and lightly stepped over to the door as Callie pulled it shut. He locked it behind her, then moved to the window and parted the blinds. He saw her walking over to Juice, how had a booklet in his hands and was waved her over. Tig removed his fingers from the blinds and shot over to Chibs.

“You know how I wasn’t sure about her patching in?” he asked.

Chibs watched his VP thoughtfully.

“Aye,” he replied.

Tig sat down beside him.

“I’m sure now. Bro, we have to get her in. Her knowledge about southern M/Cs and her shooting skills—“

“We will not patch her in holdin' that over her head. I don’t want her using leverage,” Chibs said strictly.

“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying it can be of use to us if she’s in. Kinda like our own Southern Cali club expert,” Tig replied.

Chibs nodded.

“I see what your sayin’, Tiggy, but I want to give her a home. A family. Besides that, we need new crew members that know their shit.”

Tig nodded. Chibs leaned over and raised an eyebrow at Tig.

“You know she told me she was thinkin’ about movin’ here,” he said, lowering his voice.

Tig’s eyes widened.

“No shit!” he exclaimed.

Chibs nodded. Tig looked away, jaw dropped.

“You know, I saw a newspaper on the table with ads for apartments circled. I wasn’t paying much attention, but it must have been Callie. I just didn’t think about it,” he said.

Chibs smirked.

“Face down in Venus love?” he asked teasingly.

Tig shrugged.

“Basically,” he replied.

Chibs shook his head and reached into his front pocket for a pack of cigarettes.

“We’ll talk to Callie about it later. If she’s interested, I’ll give her her patches when the bike is finished,” he said.

Tig clapped a hand on the President’s shoulder.

“Sounds good, man,” he said.

Tig stood from the couch and started for the door, when he stopped and turned back to Chibs.

“Are you okay?” Tig asked.

Chibs furrowed his eyebrows.

“I’m okay,” he said slowly, “Why?”

Tig shrugged.

“Oh, nothin’. You just seemed a little out of it the other day. I just…thought I should check,” he replied.

Chibs frowned, remembering the piece of mail he had received. He had not felt like himself for the rest of the day.

“I’m cool,” Chibs replied.

Tig nodded.

“‘Kay, bro.”

With that, Tig returned to the garage. Chibs lit up his cigarette and gave himself a moment before returning to work. He had not been okay until Callie came in to check on him. He felt lost when he read the papers, but after speaking with Callie, just sitting down with her at the diner and messing around, enjoying each other’s company, he felt a hell of a lot better. He liked Callie. He liked her a lot, actually.  
When he first patched her up, imagining her smile, he had no idea that it would not be simply her smile that hooked him. Chibs was prone to falling, not in love, but lust with women. He was no stranger to a night with a Crow Eater, or some other degenerate piece of gash—an easy lay. He was not interested in those women for anything relationship wise. He did not have the time, nor did he see anyone worth his time. Had shit not hit the fan with his now ex-wife, he would have never worried about finding the perfect woman. He knew now that that was just a fantasy, as Fiona Larkin was not all holy good. His tendencies did not stop at Callie. He was drawn to her. He had told her she was hot as a means to flirt, but that had been his honest thought when he was putting stitches in her hip. He respected her too much to treat her like a Crow Eater. She was far too smart, and in a completely different realm. She was not a whore. No where near it. She was a lost girl carrying the shadow of a ghost. She was civil, and her mind was like the crews’. Bikes and friendship. That’s what founder John Teller had wanted, that’s what Chibs had turned it into. She fit. The fact that he was starting to develop a crush on the female biker, ruined his world for the better.  
Callie was kind, thoughtful. Had a little bit of an attitude that reminded him of Tig. She was a good friend. Chibs liked that about her. She brought a little normality to his hectic life. She shined a light in it, really. It made him feel a little bit more like himself. He had not felt like himself in a long time, and the more time he spent with Callie, the better he felt. He didn’t know, and did not dare get his hopes up on where his friendship with her would go, but he had this slight bit of hope that she was the way out of the darkness, and not just for him. A friend for Juice, a second chance at sort of being a parent for Tig, and for him…he would have to wait and see.

***

“Oh my Lord, who is that?” Venus gushed.

I looked up to see her looking over the coffee table at a photo and I set aside. I was cleaning out my messenger bag, and a few photos I had saved were out on display. Not that I minded her seeing them.

“Is this your fiancé, sweetheart?” she asked, picking the picture of Z with his bike, taken just two years prior to his death.

“Yeah,” I replied quietly.

Venus looked down at me with sad eyes.

“Had those in a pocket in my bag. Had to clean out the bottom. Loose change and stuff,” I explained.

“Alexander informed me about his unexpected passing,” she said.

I nodded and swiped some change off of the coffee table and into my hand.

“He is gorgeous, hun. My God, look at those eyes,” she sighed.

I looked up at her and smiled. Venus looked down at me.

“Guess I’m just a sucker for blue eyes,” she said.

I laughed at that. She set the photo back down.

“What was his name?” she asked

“Zero Owens. We all just called him Z, though,” I replied.

“Zero? I don’t know what his momma was thinking. That man is a ten,” she said.

I laughed at that.

Tig walked in through the front door as I stacked a few of my things and placed them in back in my bag. He greeted Venus with a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m fixing to get dinner started, so why don’t you rest?” Venus suggested.

Tig smiled.

“Thank-you, baby,” he replied softly.

“You’re welcome, Tiger,” she said.

Venus pecked his lips before leaving for the kitchen. Tig walked up beside my spot in the floor and sat down on the couch, kicking his boots off. He then leaned over to me.

“Hey, did you find out anything about that letter from Ireland? I meant to ask ya,” he said quietly.

I let my shoulders fall as I remembered the divorce request Chibs and I mailed out.

“Yeah,” I replied.

I slipped the last of my things into my bag and gathered the little bits of trash I had picked out.

“Divorce papers,” I said.

Tig leaned back into the couch with a huff.

“Ah, shit!”

I closed my bag and turned around to look at him.

“He signed the papers and mailed them off already. Deal’s done,” I said.

“Well, I thought something was going on. Jesus Christ! Is he okay?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“Seems to be. Why?”

Tig shook his head.

“Fiona gave him a lot of shit, but he loved his family. I know he’s probably a little relieved, but they have a long history. He’s bound to be upset,” he said.

I pushed myself up out of the floor and sat beside Tig.

“When Juice dropped me off, I saw that he had been crying, but afterwards, I think he was okay. Didn’t seem to be hiding anything.”

Tig nodded.

“Well, we’ll see. I’ll run by his place tonight on ‘club business,’” he replied, using air quotes with his fingers, “Check up on him.”

I nodded understandingly.

“You think there might be something to worry about?” I asked.

Tig shrugged.

“I don’t know, Cal. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

I just nodded.

“Alex, Callie! Y’all come in here and get what you want to drink!” Venus called.

Tig sighed and patted my leg before standing. I followed him, my mind flying back to Chibs, and to the shit going down in Huntington Beach. AJ’s death made me want to leave as soon as my bike was finished, but I knew better. Besides, I didn’t want to leave knowing Chibs could be in pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments give me life and motivation, so make sure to leave one. Stay tuned for more!


	7. Your Cheating Heart

The next day was ultimately uneventful. The entire club had been gone for most of the day, and Venus had work. Tig did not like me being home alone, so he volunteered me to go help at TM, just offering my services and doing whatever I could to be of use. We spent an hour or so cleaning out the file cabinets for Chucky, their bookkeeper. The office was a wreck, as juggling work, management, and the office was proving difficult. However, with Chucky, we were able to straighten out the office problem, as well as get back to work on my bike when Rane and Rat returned. Juice was supposed to come in, but he never showed. Tig showed up briefly to check in, worked a little, then headed out again. Something with Happy at the docks. Venus would be by to pick me up, so in the meantime, Rat and I sat in the floor with my front tire and a crowbar, trying to get the damn thing back on the rim.

“I have never had such a problem doing this before,” Rat said.

“I’m sure there’s machines for this,” I said, prying the rubber back with a flathead screwdriver.

“Has to be,” Rat said breathlessly, “Or we need stronger people. Jesus!”

With a painful yank, Rat pulled the new tire over the rim.

“Shit!” I breathed out.

Rat wiped his forehead with his sleeve.

“Good thing you didn't destroy the back wheel. You must have ate shit when that guy hit ya,” he said.

I nodded.

“I don’t remember much. I know I was airborne. Bike must have hit a rock. Hard, too. That thing isn’t easy to break,” I replied.

Rat nodded.

“How long have you had it?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“Not long. I had eyeballed it for a while. Used to ride Harley, but my tastes changed a little. Wanted more speed. Bought this one about four years ago,” I replied.

“You don’t like Harley anymore?” he asked.

“No, I still like them, but they didn’t offer this kind of bike."

Rat smiled.

“How fast can you get it? You know, without losing control?” he asked.

I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could say anything, Tig ripped into the lot. Rat and I stood up as he squealed his tires. Smoke flew up from the ground from braking so fast. He backed into an open spot where Rat and Rane parked their bikes, and shut off the engine.

“Someone’s in a hurry,” I commented.

Rat snorted.

“Or showing out,” he said.

I laughed. Tig strolled up, phone stuck to his ear. He walked by, patted my back and slung an arm around Rat’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I can check it…Nah, it’s no prob, man…,” Tig said, rubbing Rat’s tousled hair, “We just got back…I’ll be there in an hour. Gonna check up on the kids before I head out…’Kay…See ya later, man.”

Tig closed phone and slipped it into his pocket.

“Who was that?” Rane asked.

“Álvarez,” he replied, “He’s having a security problem at Diosa. I’m gonna head out there and see what’s up.”

Rane nodded.

“How did the run go?” he asked, chomping down on a sandwich at the workbench.

Tig shrugged.

“Guess,” he replied.

Rane just shook his head. Tig reached a hand up and gripped the top of my head playfully.

“How’s this bike coming along?” he asked.

I crossed my arms over my chest.

“It’s coming,” I replied.

“That wheel was a pain in the ass, but it’s done. Quinn wouldn’t help,” Rat said.

Rane looked up from his late lunch.

“Hey! I fucking told you I needed to eat. I was getting light-headed,” he argued.

“You fucking pussy,” Tig said.

Rane just shrugged and went back to his food.

“After we get the wheel back on, it’s on to electrical. We’re just waiting for Juice. Probably finish it all by tomorrow,” Rat continued.

Tig nodded.

“Sweet,” he replied.

Tig’s cell phone rang again, and he retrieved it from his pocket and walked away from us to answer it. Rat waved me over.

“Let’s get this wheel on,” he said.

I agreed and helped him pick it up out of the floor. I was curious about this Diosa place. In the time I had been in Charming with these guys, I had heard it mentioned countless times. I knew it was a business they helped with, but I wasn’t sure exactly what it was.

“Hey, Rat?” I asked.

We lifted the wheel up the raised bike and held it as he reached for the bolts.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“What’s Diosa?”

Rat laughed.

“Our partnership,” he replied.

“It’s an escort service,” Rane spoke up.

I raised an eyebrow at the giant stuffing his face full of potato chips.

“Escorts?” I asked.

“Oh, hell yeah! Those girls make I don’t know how much. Be a good place to work,” he said.

I rolled my eyes.

“I’m not like that,” I said.

“I know. I’m just sayin’,” he replied.

Rat reached over the wheel, a ratchet in his hand.

“Hold that,” he said.

I took the tool as Rat adjusted the wheel.

“Shit! Are you fucking kidding me?” Tig exclaimed.

Rat and I froze and looked up at Tig.

“Man, I knew something was up,” Tig went on, “Where at?”

Tig walked over to me and gripped my shoulder.

“Goddammit…Okay…Okay, good. I gotta run down to Diosa, so hang on,” Tig pulled the phone away from his ear and looked down at me, “Can you drive stick?”

I narrowed my eyes, a little concerned.

“Uh, yeah. Why?” I asked.

“Okay, you know that flower shop off of 5th? The one we pass by on the way home?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“‘Kay. You know the bar across the street?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I need you to take the truck down there and rescue Chibs. Juice is down there with him. He says Chibs is drunk off his ass and he’s not in any condition to ride. Juice says he won’t ride bitch, so will you go get his stupid ass for me, baby? I’d do it, but Álvarez wants me down there.”

I nodded, now worried. Tig had had reason to believe something was up with Chibs after he received the divorce papers from Fiona, and now something was obviously wrong.

“Of course,” I replied.

Tig put his phone back up to his ear.

“‘Kay, I’m sending Cal with the truck. She’ll be there in a bit,” he said, “…Alright.”

Tig hung up, closed his eyes and groaned.

“Fucking Chibs,” he complained.

“You know he was really grumpy all day,” Rane said.

“Got old man syndrome, no doubt,” Rat added.

Tig snorted.

“He’s a lot younger than I am,” he said.

Rane walked up to me and handed me the keys.

“Truck’s over there,” he said, “Make sure to make your turns wide, darlin’.”

I looked up at the Teller-Morrow tow truck and closed my hands over the keys.

“I’ll take care of it,” I assured him.

Rane nodded and patted my shoulder. I looked up at Tig.

“Thank-you, Callie. Call me when you make it home with him. I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” he said.

“I’ll get him home safe. Don’t worry about it. Go ahead and head out to Diosa. I got this,” I said.

Tig smiled and hugged me.

“You’re a doll. I’ll call Venus and tell her you’ll most likely be back late,” he said, then turned on his hell and marched back to his bike, “Kick Chibby’s ass for me!”

I laughed and shook my head. Rane took the bike wheel out of my hands.

“I got it, darling. Go on and get our fearless leader,” he said.

I laughed and thanked him and Rat, then said goodbye to Chucky before grabbing my bag and jogging over to the truck. I knew how to get to the bar Tig was talking about, but I was scared of what I would see when I got there.  
At the bar, I found Juice and Chibs’ bikes outside, among other vehicles. I parked the TM truck on the far side of the parking lot, then got out and quickly walked across the gravel parking lot and up to the door. The bar was a shady looking place, made out of crimped sheet metal and covered in different neon signs. There were no windows. Just a big, heavy, metal door. I walked up to it and pulled it up, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes hitting me with the sound of music, loud, drunken men, and pool balls clacking together. I inwardly groaned. I hated places like this.  
I walked inside, letting my eyes adjust before searching the crowded room for Chibs or Juice. I walked by people, trying not to make eye contact, but I man stopped me before I could make any progress. He was not a very tall guy. Redneck, wearing a wifebeater and a camouflage baseball cap. He had a Bud in one hand and a drunken smile on his face.

“You lost, little girl?” he asked.

I sneered at him. I got this a lot. I knew I was short, and I knew I was small. I looked like a 12 year old boy if you hide the boobs, and I often had to produce my driver’s license to prove I was over 18. Still, the first thing people saw when they looked at me was a 14 year old punk kid trying to sneak into a bar.

“No, I’m not,” I said boldly, then tried to slip away.

However, he stopped me.

“What’s a little sweet thing like you doin’ in a place like this?” he asked, trying to be cute.

Rolling with The VII, I had been in my fair share of bars, but it had been years since I had been in one unescorted. Z had always been right by my side at these things, and at the moment, I was feeling a little self-conscious.

“Let me buy you a drink,” he said, his words slurring together.

“No, thank-you,” I said, then tried to duck away.

The man laughed.

“Ah, come on now! I ain’t gonna hurt ya,” he said.

“No, but I will.”

I looked up to see Juice at my side, staring the guy down. The guy studied Juice for a moment, not sure how to react.

“She’s with me,” he said, his tone challenging.

The guy held his hands in the air, beer bottle dangling from one.

“I get it. I get it,” he said, backing down.

Juice placed and hand on my back and led me away from the redneck.

“Why didn’t you call me and tell me you were here? I would have come to the door,” he said.

I shrugged.

“I didn’t think about it. Where’s Chibs?” I asked.

Juice pointed up to the bar.

“He’s up there. He’s really worrying me, Cal. He drinks, but I’ve never seen him drink like this,” he said.

I stopped Juice and pulled him aside where we had a little bit of room to stand.

“What happened?” I asked.

Juice shrugged.

“I don’t know. He’s been weird all day. Very irritable. I just stayed out of his way. On the way home, we were all going to come to TM, but he split. Tig told me to follow him and we ended up here. At first, I just kind of spied on him, you know? But then, he just kept drinking heavily and I had to interfere. He was pissed, but I got him to slow down. I decided to stay here and make sure he stays safe. He can’t be on a bike, Cal.”

I patted Juice’s shoulder.

“I got him. Don’t worry about it. You go ahead and go home. I know you’re exhausted,” I replied.

“You sure?” he asked worriedly.

I nodded.

“He isn’t a mean drunk, is he?” I asked.

Juice shook his head.

“Just loud,” he replied.

I nodded. Chibs was nothing. He was about the same build as Zero, but shorter. I used to be able to drag that boy unconscious back when we were stupid party kids. Chibs was not much of a challenge if it came to that.

“I got him. Go home. I’ll call you if I need you, bro,” I said.

Juice smiled and hugged me.

“Thanks, Cal. Be careful with him. I’ll make sure his bike gets somewhere safe.”

I nodded.

Juice waved and slipped out of the bar. I sighed and looked over to the bar to see a miserable Scotsman nursing a pitcher of beer. I walked over slowly and sat on the barstool beside him. He didn’t even notice me. The bartender walked up to me.

“What can I get you, miss?” he asked.

I waved him off.

“Nothing right now, thank-you,” I replied.

He nodded and moved on. I folded my arms on the worn brown surface of the bar and looked over at Chibs, who still had no idea it was me.

“Drinking is a lot more fun if you have someone to do it with,” I said.

Chibs slowly looked up at me, his eyes glassed over and cheeks red from the alcohol in his system. It took him a second before he realized who he was looking at.

“Callie?” he asked.

I smiled.

“What the hell are ya doin’ here?” he slurred, his accent making it hard for me to comprehend the noises coming out of his mouth.

“Getting you out of here,” I said.

Chibs waved me off.

“Go home, sweetheart. I’m fine,” he grumbled.

I leaned over and took his arm.

“No, you’re not,” I said.

Chibs gave me this “What the fuck?” look. His focus then moved, absently staring at the taps. I tightened my hand around his forearm.

“Chibs,” I said softly.

He shook his head and put his face in his hands, pushing his hair back on his head. I stood up and put my free hand around his bicep.

“Come on,” I said.

Chibs obeyed, and I helped him off the barstool. He wavered on his feet for a moment before I slowly led him out of the bar and out to the truck. Once in the truck, he sat motionless. I had a hell of a time getting him in, and decided to go ahead and take him to Tig’s. I would need an extra hand, and I wasn’t leaving him at his place by himself. Spending the night with him, though thoughtful when considering I was not staying to sleep with him, never crossed my mind.  
On the way to Tig’s, Chibs barely moved an inch as he absently watched the road ahead of him. He was quiet, distant. I was not certain whether he was simply too out of it to function, or the weight of what had driven him to drink so heavily in the first place sitting on his shoulders. Maybe both. He never said a word as his head lolled with the movements of the truck, and I hoped and prayed he didn’t puke in the floorboard.  
When we arrived at Tig’s I noticed the lights were out and both vehicles missing. Tig was still out at Diosa, and Venus had not arrived home yet. I sighed and glanced over at the man of stone beside me. Here goes nothing.  
Getting Chibs out of the truck without fracturing his skull proved nearly impossible. I got him out onto his feet, but because of the lack of light, and his equilibrium trying to make sense of walking, he walked head-first into the door as I held his arm with one hand and tried to shut the heavy door with the other. Instead of shutting with a small bang, it bounced back with a thud and a string of slurred curse words.

“Mary Mother of Christ!” he cried out grabbing his forehead.

“Shit!” I hissed, towing him out of the way, “Dammit, Chibs. I’m sorry.”

I shut the door successfully and stood on my toes, pushing his hair out of his face.

“Be still. Let me see,” I said.

“Tha’s not gonna feel too good in the mornin’,” he grumbled.

I pushed his hair aside to see a big red spot, a goose-egg slowly forming. However, the skin was not broken and he wasn’t bleeding.

“You’re okay,” I said, “Come on. Inside.”

Chibs had no choice but to obey, and I helped him up to the door. I grabbed the key hidden underneath the mailbox mounted to the side of the house, which was attached by a magnet, and let me and Chibs inside. Venus and Tig had the other two house keys, and I had not planned on crashing with them long enough to ask for my own. I knew where the spare was, and that was good enough.  
Chibs walked in ahead of me and I followed behind, shutting the door and locking it before walking over to the lamps to turn them on, illuminating the immaculately decorated living room. I’m sure Venus had a hand in that, and I wondered what the place looked like when Tig was the only one here. Probably boring. I’m sure it looked more like a giant locker, but thanks to Venus, along with the love those two had for each other and others, it felt like a home.  
Chibs rubbed his face as he stood on unsteady feet.

“Callie, look. I’m sorry,” he apologized.

I walked by him and patted his back. I wasn’t mad at him. Far from it. I was more concerned about his well-being than anything.

“It’s okay. Go sit on the couch. I’ll be right back,” I said.

Chibs obeyed with a groan and shuffled over to the couch in a way reminiscent of Herman Munster—as if his feet were made of lead. I slipped into the kitchen, flicking on the lights and setting my bag down on the counter. I pulled my cellphone out of my pocket and sent a text to Juice, saying I got Chibs home safely and we were both fine. I would have sent the same message to Tig, but I wasn’t sure how savvy he was with a cell phone. I clicked on his name in my Contacts List and placed the device between my ear and shoulder as I made a pot of coffee. I knew Chibs would need it.

“Hey, baby girl. You okay?” he answered.

“Yeah. I don’t know about Chibs, though. I nearly knocked him out on accident,” I replied.

Tig hissed.

“Damn. That fucked up, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah. Well, not so much fucked as just kind of out of it,” I replied, “Juice said he had been drinking like there was no tomorrow, but he got him to cool it before I arrived. I brought him to the house. I didn’t want him home alone at his place. Is that cool with you?”

“Nah, darlin’. That’s fine. You take care of him. I’ll be home soon. Venus may be there before me. Don’t let anyone in unless they’re us or club members, okay?”

“Got it,” I replied.

“Okay. Call me if ya need me,” he said.

“I will.”

With that, Tig hung up. I locked my phone and slipped it back into my pocket.

When the coffee was ready, I poured Chibs a mug and brought it to him. He was sitting on the couch, tired eyes staring at the ceiling fan. When I entered, he looked up at me.

“Here. Drink this. I’ll be right back,” I said.

Chibs took the mug and looked to see black coffee inside.

“Thanks, darlin’,” he said, voice gravelly.

I smiled and returned to the kitchen while he sobered up. I grabbed a dish towel and ran it under cold water, then went to the freezer and grabbed a few ice cubes from the ice maker, rolling them up in the towel as a makeshift ice pack. Chibs had whacked his head pretty hard on the edge of the door, and I knew there would be swelling. The least I could do was help the pain a little.  
I returned to the living room to find Chibs with an empty coffee mug, dirty boots propped up on the coffee table, hugging one of the decorative throw pillows. He looked up at me, eyes a little more focused.

“Whatcha got there, darlin’?” he asked.

I held the icy, wet, wadded towel in the air.

“Ice pack,” I replied.

Chibs smiled and looked away.

“I don’t need it, Callie girl. I’m as hard-headed as they come. You think I’ve never been banged on the head before?”

I sat down beside him and smiled.

“Lived through crackin’ my skull open after a car explosion. Traitor nomad banged me up with the end of a gun,” he listed, then looked to me, “My go-to move is the head-butt, ya know.”

I smiled and moved his hair out of the way.

“Still, at least hold this to it for a little bit. Reduce the swelling,” I said.

Chibs humored me and took the ice pack, holding it to the sizable goose-egg above his left brow. He sighed in relief as the cold numbed the pain. I took his mug back into the kitchen, then went down the hall to the closet to grab a blanket and extra pillow, before returning to the living room.

“You wanna take the guest room? I can crash on the couch,” I said.

Chibs slipped his boots off.

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” he replied.

I set the bedding on the coffee table while Chibs removed his cut and leather jacket, revealing a simple black v-neck t-shirt, his dollar tattoo peeking out under a string of dark wooden beads around his neck. I took his jacket and cut for him and set them on the nearby recliner. He handed me the ice pack, thanking me for it. I took it to the kitchen and set it in the sink to worry about later. Then, I returned to the couch, kicked my tennis shoes off and sat down cross-legged beside, Chibs, facing him.

“You okay?” I asked quietly.

He silently nodded. I shifted nervously, knowing that was a flat out lie.

“What’s been going on, Chibs? Juice said you never drink like that,” I said.

Chibs smiled.

“Juicey Boy said that?” he asked, amused.

I nodded. Chibs nodded and looked down. His amusement died immediately.

“He ain’t lyin’,” he replied quietly.

I watched him intently as he stared at the coffee table in deep thought. He suddenly looked up and breathed in sharply, eyes watering as if he had been hit with sudden pain.

“I got a call early this mornin’. From Fiona,” he replied.

I shifted, leaning my shoulder against the back of the couch.

“What’d she say?” I asked.

I knew I probably should have waited to speak, but I felt like by answering, he knew I was interested, and therefore cared to listen. I cared regardless, but I felt like vocalizing let him know.  
Chibs put his elbows on his legs and covered his mouth and nose with his hands, as if he were praying. I waited for his response, observing the anarchy symbol and part of some more ink tattooed on his bicep—tattoos I had yet to see until now.

Chibs raised up and turned slightly to me. He was unable to speak, rendered to merely keeping his gaze down and shaking his head. I reached for his hand, trying to offer some kind of comfort.

“You can tell me. It’s okay. I can keep a secret if you’re afraid I’ll blab,” I said.

Chibs gave me a small smile.

“Nah, I trust ya,” he said, tightening his fingers around my hand.

He took a moment before he spoke again.

“You’re one of the few people I can trust,” he said.

I felt a sudden warmth spread through my chest, and honored that he trusted me. I would never betray it, either.

“Back when Fi and I were still together, I was living in Ireland. Tied with the IRA. Fiona was part of it. A guy named Jimmy O’ Phelan was the sort of face of the group. He had me kicked out of Ireland. Stole Fi and Kerrianne from me.”

Chibs voice was strangled when he spoke of this asshole stealing his family. The pain was written clearly on his face.

“He’s responsible for these,” he said, pointing to the scars on both sides of his mouth, “Fuckin’ slimy Irish bastard.”

I frowned. So that’s who did that.

“Why?” I asked.

“‘Cause he’s a prick. Fucked a lot of people over. Had a hard-on for Fi, I suppose,” he said bitterly.

I just nodded.

“In fact, I know he did. Fiona and Kerrianne were my goddamn world, and that motherfucker stole it. Turns out, he was takin’ back what was his, and after all these years, Fiona fessed up.”

I tilted my head to the side. Chibs sniffed.

“Kerrianne is not my daughter,” he said, voice cracking as a sob tried to escape, “She’s Jimmy’s.”

With that, Chibs lost it. He let his head drop to my shoulder.

“Fi cheated on me. And after all that bullshit I went through to save her,” he said, voice strangled by tears.

I sighed, heartbroken to see him like this. I cradled his head and held his jaw, careful not to touch his scars. I didn’t know how he felt about people touching them, but I didn’t want to upset him, so I held the side of his neck and jaw.

“Oh, Chibs. I’m so sorry,” I said softly.

Chibs sniffed into the crook of my neck.

“She wanted me to know, but she’s not tellin’ Kerrianne. Not now,” he said.

I nodded.

“That’s probably best,” I said quietly.

He nodded and raised his head. His eyes were red, as was his nose, and his long eyelashes and cheeks were soaked from crying. He looked right into my eyes, fresh tears brimming his bottom lids.

“I have no family,” he whispered, then attempted to clear his throat, “I’m alone.”

I felt like I had been stabbed in the gut by an invisible force. Goddamn, I knew that feeling too well, but to see Chibs, this strong, smart, brave M/C President fall to pieces in front of me, broken by what used to matter so much. It was easy to lose your way when shit like that happens. Easy to lose your purpose. To hear him say it, and for everything to hit him all at once…seeing that brought tears to my own eyes.

“Chibs,” I said softly.

“And after all the wretched shit I had to go through!” he ranted.

I took him by the shoulders and pulled him back to me.

“Okay, okay,” I said, rubbing his back in an attempt to soothe him.

I reached for the bedding I had set out whilst simultaneously holding Chibs. I knew there would be no leaving the couch tonight, and frankly I didn’t want to. So, I tossed the pillow behind me, then guided Chibs so we were laying down. There wasn’t much room, but I was just small enough to have room. He curled against my side, still shedding tears while I used one free hand and my feet to drape the blanket over us.  
I could not tell you what made me take initiative and lay with him. Hold him. I felt sorry for him, but what made me stay, other than worry, for he was still a little drunk, was that I knew his pain, on a certain level. When Zero passed away, and the boys shut me out, I had no one. My siblings were older, as well as halves, so I had no emotional connection to them, and my parents were dead. I talked to Zero’s mother, and then no one. I had so many nights where I wanted him to just come back and hold me, or anyone for that matter. I never sought out company, but I craved it. I knew that’s all Chibs wanted. Someone to hug him—to be there. That’s why I stayed.

“Chibs, look here,” I said softly.

Chibs lifted his head and looked down at me. I reached up and held his neck.

“You are not alone, okay? You may not want to talk to me about it, but you can still come to me. You have your brothers, and the club is your family, but if you need someone else, I’m here.”

Chibs eyes watered and he leaned down, kissing my temple.

“Sweet girl,” he whispered, his voice now hoarse from crying.

He curled around me, taking my hand again. I let him, and held it tightly. His tears had ceased, but his breathing was still ragged. I cradled his head with my free hand, stroking his hair and lightly scratching his scalp. That soothed him more than anything. He relaxed and his breathing became regular. I let the shorter pieces of brown repeatedly slide through my fingers. He reeked of alcohol and his hair smelled of cigarettes, but it felt clean, for the most part. I enjoyed it while it lasted, because I was sure when he was completely sober, he would not want to be anywhere near me. I understood, but for the moment, I would stay put—something my friends never did for me.  
I was no fool. I was well aware of who Chibs was, and what he had done for the club. Sons kill. I didn’t doubt he had. I was no stranger to that kind of life, and regardless of what Chibs had done, it was obvious he had a big heart. A huge capacity for love and loyalty.  
Chibs snored softly, and I turned my head to see that he was out. I brushed his hair off of his forehead and kissed his hairline. Regardless of any sin, he was a beautiful human being.  
It wasn’t just his looks. He was older than me, though not quite out of the safe range, but Tig had said he was older than Chibs. I had thought it was the other way around. Either way, I didn’t care. The silver, the fatigue in his face, none of that bothered me. Not the scars. Nothing. I thought he was a good looking guy, but it was that big heart that made him beautiful. I was well aware of where my feelings were going, but I didn’t care. I had an open place in my heart and Chibs was welcome in it. I had Zero in my heart, and there was room for more. Even if I remained nothing but a friend, I knew I was stuck with him.  
I tilted my head to the side, my cheek against his forehead, before falling asleep.

***

Tig and Venus returned home at the same time to the smell of coffee, and two figures crashed on the couch. The first thought to fly through Tig’s mind as he walked with Venus through the living room came tumbling out of his mouth.

“Shit! They fucked,” he blurted.

Venus swatted his shoulder.

“Alexander!” she hissed, “They’re fully clothed.”

Tig looked back at Chibs and Callie, realizing his girlfriend was right.

“Good, ‘cause I was gonna kick Chibby’s ass,” he said.

Venus shook her head.

“Always so protective, Tiger,” she said.

Tig smirked. She wasn’t lying. He had seen it from miles away, this chemistry forming between her and the club President. He didn’t mind it, but he swore if Chibs fucked up he would personally kick his ass for Callie. He doubted Chibs would do any such thing, but Tig saw her as a daughter. She reminded him of a tamer version of Dawn, his daughter who was burned to death by Damon Pope, who was a dead son of a bitch now. He had not had the chance to properly raise his girls, and even though Callie was older than his girls, he was going to try and make up for it by protecting her. That is, if Chibs didn’t scare her off with the promise of a Prospect patch.

“They are so cute,” Venus gushed, slipping an arm through Tig’s.

Tig smiled.

“Yeah, real cute,” he agreed, going along.

However, he knew that his brother would be in good hands. Whatever bullshit that had driven him to do the shit he did tonight, he was counting on Callie to guide him through it. When he first joined the Sons, he did not believe in fate. Now, after surviving the Teller phase, he knew it was real, and was absolutely certain that Callie had entered their lives for a reason.


	8. Look-Out

  
**8 years ago…**

The wind had created a surf almost too dangerous for surfers, and much too dangerous for swimmers today. The draft from the Pacific seemed to move with the surging waves, and for early Fall, the cold air made me shiver. I ignored the cold for a while. Standing on the pier, I was able to people-watch, and take in the angry ocean, hoping and praying the waves did not decide that this would be they day they would conquer the pier and swallow it whole. I was leaning on the railing, farthest into the water. I would have rather not drowned today. I was meeting someone.  
I had been standing for an hour as the last of the sun’s light began to dip below the horizon. I sighed and tapped on the railing impatiently. I had checked the time obsessively, observing the minutes that had gone by. I checked it again for lack of anything else to do, and as I did so, shivering in the process, I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist and effortlessly lift my ass into the air. I screamed out of shock and squirmed as the person behind me laughed.

“Stop wiggling, you little shit!” he giggled.

“Let go, you giant ass!” I bit back.

He chuckled, set me on my feet, and I quickly spun around to be greeted by Zero’s tired blue eyes and warm smile.

“Hi, baby,” he said.

He cupped my cheek and pressed his lips to mine. When we parted, he touched his forehead to mine and held my hips. I reached up to cup his face and tuck his long black hair behind his ears.

“Hello, sweet boy,” I replied quietly.

Zero closed his eyes as I touched his face.

“Where have you been, Z? I thought you said you’d be here at 6:00?” I asked.

Zero sighed.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. They got behind at the hospital,” he replied, then opened his eyes, “Nothing new.”

I gave him a reassuring smile. He lifted his head and looked out at the ocean.

“How did the tests go?” I asked.

Zero looked down at me, his eyes locking with mine. He frowned and glanced down at his hands, dejected. He did not, and most likely would not, say more. I sighed and took his hands in mine, one still bruised from a failed stress test.

“Zero, I’m sorry, baby,” I replied.

He just nodded, eyes trained on our hands. He gently rubbed the backs of my hands with his thumbs, his mind a million miles away. I brought his hands up, held both between my own, and kissed his knuckles. He watched as I pressed my lips to both sets before looking up at him and holding his hands to my chest, just above my heart.

“We’re going to find a doctor that can help you, baby. I don’t care if we have to go clear across the country,” I said, determined.

Zero shook his head.

“It’s a lost cause, Cal. I just have to stick to my diet and kick the alcohol. Maybe in a few years, some sort of miracle cure will come along,” he said.

I closed my eyes. I hated this. Seeing this. What it was doing to such a spirited human being.

“Don’t say that. We’re going to find someone who can help you. I’m not letting you give up this easily,” I replied.

Zero gave me a hard stare.

“You’d never let me give up,” I said pointedly.

Zero watched me thoughtfully before nodding.

“You’re right,” he said quietly.

He pulled his hands away and put his arms around me. I walked into him and laid my head on his chest.

“Maybe someone can buy me some more time.”

“We’re going to find someone who can give you your life back, Z. I want you here for a long time,” I said.

Zero perched his chin on top of my head and rubbed small circles into my back.

“I’ll always be by your side, sweetheart. Whether it’s physically or not."

“Z, don’t talk like that.”

“I mean it, Callie. I’ll always be here, but I want you to promise me something,” he said.

I moved my head out from under his chin and looked up at him. My initial reaction was to argue, but I knew better.

“What is it, baby?” I asked softly.

“That you find happiness. I don’t care what it is or who it is, so long as you are truly enjoying life,” he said, “I know it’s going to be painful. We can’t pretend like it won’t be, but you have to promise me you’ll keep stepping to the beat.”

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. I could barely handle these conversations. I didn’t even want to prepare for a funeral. Even if he had more than five years left, I was not ready for it.

Can anyone be ready to put their best friend—their fiancé in the ground?

“A promise right now would be a lie,” I said, being brutally honest, “But, I _can_ promise you that I will do my damnedest to fulfill your wishes. Anything you need, baby, I got it.”

Zero smiled and leaned down, taking my chin and kissing me deeply.

“I love you so much, Callie.”

I reached up and held the sides of his tattooed neck.

“I love you, too, Zero."

***

Chibs’ first eye opened without an issue. The second acted like it was glued together, and he had to force it open like peeling a Post-It off of a pad. When he finally opened his eyes to see where he was, pain cracked through his skull. He groaned and shut his eyes until the pain subsided. He buried his face in his pillow, only to be met with hair. He shuddered and his eyes snapped wide open. Black hair was in his face, and when he raised his head, he was met with Callie’s face. His heart kicked into overdrive when he realized one of his arms was wrapped around her. He didn’t remember anything, and in his panic, he yanked the blanket back. To his relief, they were both clothed, and at the sight of yesterday’s ensembles, things began to come back at a sticky, slow pace. The conk on the head by the tow truck door, Juice nearly knocking his teeth out because of his drinking, general club bullshit when Tig got into an argument with one of the Mayans on a run, the call from Fiona, and spilling his guts to Callie. He had never meant to do that, but with such news, he needed someone to talk to. He did trust Callie, but with shit like this so personal?

Speaking of spilling his guts…

It took him a total of three seconds and a lucky leap over Callie to reach the front door. In his urgency, he could have yanked the door off its hinges, not to mention destroying the door knob. He got through it without damage, dropped to his knees on the edge of the concrete porch, and proceeded to vomit up everything into the bushes.  
Tig was awake, checking his cell phone for messages when heard Chibs hit the ground running. He hopped up, jumped into a pair of black sweatpants, grabbed the piece on his nightstand, and walked out of the room. He turned down the hall to find the front door open. He held his gun between his hands and walked into the living room to find Callie on the couch, looking around in confusion. Then, he heard the retching. He sighed and walked to the door, setting the gun on the console table where Venus kept her car keys. He found Chibs on all fours, shaking at the shoulders as he heaved up the last bit of yesterday’s booze binge.  
Tig bent over and took Chibs by the shoulders, making the M/C President jump.

“Easy, Chibby. Easy. Come on, brother,” he said.

Chibs took a moment to catch his breath. He looked down at the flowerbed to see a bundle of flowers, drowned.

“Oops,” he said.

Tig patted his back.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get the hose. Let’s get you back inside.”

Chibs nodded and let Tig help him to his feet.

***

“If he ruined my petunias…” Venus said, stomping through the living room.

I stood in the kitchen as Tig and Chibs walked back inside, Tig’s arm securely around Chibs’ waist. Venus stood by me, wearing a satiny pink robe and slippers, her hair wrapped in a bun.

“How much did you have last night? You usually never get sick,” Tig said.

Chibs slowly pulled away from him and made his way back to the couch. Venus patted my arm.

“Can you make him a glass of water, hun? I’ll go find the aspirin,” she said.

I nodded. Venus walked by the men while I retrieved Chibs’ water.

“I haven’t been sick like that in years. Not since my 20’s,” Chibs replied, his voice raspy.

Tig chuckled.

“Must just be old age,” he teased.

Chibs groaned and laid back down.

“Piss off,” he replied.

Venus came in with a damp washcloth and aspirin, letting him wipe his face. I brought in a glass of ice water and passed it off to Venus.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” she said softly.

While Venus tended to Chibs, Tig turned to me and pulled me away into the kitchen.

“What happened to him?” he asked quietly.

I shrugged. What was to tell? He drank too much and was paying for it. However, I knew that was obvious to Tig.

“Cal, I know he told you something or you wouldn’t be cuddling him,” he said accusingly.

I cut my eyes at Tig.

“I wasn’t _cuddling_ him,” I hissed.

Tig’s eyes had this strange way of going from warm and sweet to fucking scary in a matter of milliseconds, and this moment was an example of that. His icy blue eyes were like those of some spooky creature in a horror flick. They were also the eyes of a man who was about to engage “Dad Mode” and scold me.

“That’s bullshit,” he said, entirely too calm.

I rolled my eyes and put my hands on my hips before giving him my own look of danger.

“You would too if he had told you what he told me,” I whispered.

Tig’s eyes changed again, this time to a look of worry, his eyebrows moving up, causing his forehead to wrinkle.

“What’s going on, baby? Is he okay?” he asked.

I wasn’t sure how to respond for a moment. Part of me wanted to just shake my head and keep my mouth shut, but I had to tell him something. I wanted to lie, but I thought better of it. This was his President—his brother. He deserved to know something was up.

“No,” I whispered, not wanting Chibs to hear.

I was sure he couldn’t hear over Venus’ cooing and soothing, but I took my precautions. Tig looked heartbroken.

“What happened? Is it bad?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Not bad, as in life-threatening, but it’s not good,” I replied.

Tig looked down.

“Damn,” he whispered.

“I’d let you in, but it’s his business. It’s not my place to tell. I don’t even think it was his place to tell,” I continued.

“No, I know. It’s okay. We just gotta keep an eye on him. Chibs is fiercely private, but he has his moments when he comes around. We just have to make sure he knows we’re here for him when he does.”

I nodded understandingly. Tig held my cheek and kissed my forehead.

“Thank-you for saving his stupid ass,” he said.

I smiled at that.

“Any time,” I replied with a small laugh.

Tig patted my shoulder and walked back into the living room. I slowly followed behind. Venus was picking things up and leaving the living room when we entered.

“What time is it?” Tig asked me over his shoulder.

I took a few steps backwards and glanced at the clock beside the refrigerator in the kitchen.

“Nearly 7:00.”

Tig nodded and looked down at Chibs.

“You good, bro?” he asked.

Chibs, who had his arm draped over his eyes, nodded.

“‘Kay. Juice texted me. He picked up Rat and they got your bike back to TM. Figured that was the safest place for it. Callie has the keys to the tow truck, so you can use that to go get your bike. Did we have church today?”

Chibs shook his head.

“Don’t think so. Just work,” he replied.

Tig nodded again.

“‘Kay. Well, I’m gonna get some more sleep. You rest,” he ordered.

Chibs didn’t reply. At the mention of sleep, I thought another hour or two couldn’t hurt, so I followed Tig. As I walked by the couch, though, Chibs grabbed my wrist, spooking me. Tig either did not hear my surprised gasp, or ignored me as he turned down the hall to go to his room. I looked down to see an exhausted Filip Telford staring up at me.  
He did not break eye contact for a while, and the longer he stared at me, the more insanely awkward things became.

“Chibs, I’m—“

“Stay,” he finally spoke.

If my mind could have squealed to a stop, it would have. I was taken aback by the request.

“What?” I asked.

Chibs knew how to keep his cool, and his expressions normally did not range far, as a toothy grin was nearly unheard of, but doe eyes? Nonexistent until this moment.

“Just stay,” he said quietly.

I stood still, looking around nervously. I felt cornered, and a little scared by his request.

“Callie, for Christ sake! Just sit and talk until I crash again. Ya act like I’m gonna bite your head off,” he said, his voice now gaining strength.

I looked back down at the couch. Could he blame me? He was a nice guy, with a big heart where it was needed, but he really did not give off the impression that he was one to want nurturing and babying. At least, not when sober.

“Just give me five minutes and then you can go on with your business,” he said, getting peeved.

I gave in and turned to fully face him. Of course, I didn’t mind hours, so long as I was welcome.  
Chibs pulled himself up and turned to face forward, patting the spot where his torso—our torsos had lain. I sat down beside him and out of nervous habit, picked at my fingernails. Chibs sunk back into the couch and let his head (which I’m sure was in a tremendous amount of pain), tilt to the side a bit. He didn’t say much for a moment, and fought with his eyelids and consciousness.

“Is it…is it bad that I almost feel relieved?” he asked quietly.

I turned my head to look at him.

“I suppose there’s aspects to be relieved about,” I replied.

He nodded.

“True,” he said, voice just above a whisper.

The next thing that flew out of my mouth was meant to lighten the mood, as with situations like this, that was my defense mechanism. Of course, it had only worked around people I used to know.

“To some men, this would be good news,” I said.

Chibs cut his eyes at me. I immediately regretted what I said, no matter how true it was. I expected him to tell me to get out, biting my head off in the process, but he just let out a deep breath and shook his head.

“I’m not that kind of scumbag, Callie girl,” he said tiredly.

I nodded, wishing I had kept my mouth shut.

“I…um…sorry,” I managed to say.

A small smile appeared on his face and he reached a hand up to grip my shoulder. I was relieved it wasn’t a slap or a punch, as I deserved one. Chibs just stared at the TV across the room, his grip turning to weak, friendly rubbing.

“I’m sorry if I scared ya last night. Or did anythin’ to upset ya. I don’t really remember much. I remember comin’ here and everythin’,” he said.

I shook my head.

“Nothing I haven’t been through before. I don’t blame you. Be thankful you have brothers who love you enough to take you in like this. In your time of need. You have a very selfless and loving family here.”

Chibs looked up at me suddenly, concerned.

“Didn’t your brothers in The VII do the same for their Old Ladies?” he asked.

I snorted. Only when your Old Man is alive…

“Chibs, just rest.”

Chibs cracked a smile and let his head fall to my shoulder.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

I stifled a laugh. Chibs didn’t say more, and soon enough, was asleep again.

***

“Were you able to get to the bottom of the security issue?” Venus asked, sitting on the foot of their bed, buttoning a burgundy blouse.

Tig shook his head as he cinched his belt.

“Nah. I hung out down there for a while. Seeing if something suspicious popped up. I didn’t get anything,” he replied.

Venus nodded.

“I’m gonna head back down there. Check up on them. I don’t want you going down there today. Stay here with Cal and Chibs,” Tig continued.

Venus nodded and reached into the floor for a pair of her favorite black heels.

“Well, what happened? Was there a break-in?” she asked.

Tig grabbed his knife from the top of the dresser and began buckling the holster to his leg.

“No, one of the girls caught some creep snooping in the windows in the massage parlor. Probably nothing to worry about,” he replied.

“Well, did she get a look at this peeping tom?” she asked.

Tig shrugged.

“White guy. Sunglasses. Black beanie. It was just a quick glance. She didn’t see any details,” he replied.

Venus sighed.

“You may not like it, Tiger, but it sounds like a scandal is brewing. Diosa has never been prone to the casual Curious George.”

Tig opened the dresser in search of a shirt.

“Yeah, I know. Sounds too sloppy to be any sort of organized plan, though. Like I said, it’s probably nothing, baby. If I find out something, I’ll call Chibs. Get him to help.”

“Oh, now, Alex, don’t go bringing that poor man into Diosa business,” she said.

Tig turned to face his girlfriend, chosen button-up in hand.

“Baby, we’re partnered with them. Diosa _is_ our business,” he replied.

“Yes, darlin’, but one can see it from a mile away that Filip is not okay. No need in stressing that poor man out until you have a bite,” she said.

Tig nodded. She was right. He knew Chibs would be more than willing to help with this problem, but he needed healing time from whatever it was. He at least owed the President some time to himself, and knew he was in good hands left with Venus and Callie. He’d talk to him about everything at a later time.  
Venus watched as Tig moved towards the en suite. Her mind had slipped into the gutter and her eyes were on the prize. She had had her fair share of all kinds of men in her life, and was no stranger to a woman. Her son, Joey, was a result of that. But after everyone she had dealt with. The scum that came with her job, having Alexander Trager in her life had somewhat leveled her in a way. Tig was warped, of course. She knew that. What straight man, or sane man, would want a transgender prostitute with a dark and scary past? Only Tig, but he truly cared about her. The men of the club were no strangers to dating, sleeping with, or loving the less than classy women of Charming. Crow Eaters, pornstars, escorts and the like. It seemed like tradition for Tig to be in a relationship with Venus, but he loved her. She wasn’t there just to suck his dick, and he could care less if she was biologically male. He loved her regardless. She had helped the club through tough times, and she was there for him every second, during every dark moment before Jax Teller stepped away. In that time, they had found a very safe, very loving relationship. Tig was every bit manly that turned her gears, and even though she was not complete, she was more woman than most biologicals, and Tig loved that.  
Venus’ eyes drifted up her man’s backside, over his black jeans and up his bare back, right into the curls she didn’t mind ruining a manicure over.

“What are you going to do if the our little sneak shows up again?” she asked.

She knew the answer to that. Tig would take care of it. It was a simple job that hardly required worry, but Venus wanted to hear it—wanted his protective promises vocalized.

“Beat his ass, no doubt. Don’t worry, baby,” he replied.

Venus smiled. She stood from the bed, her heels still in her hand. She let them drop to the floor as she sauntered up behind Tig. Tig was rinsing his toothbrush when he suddenly felt long fingers take a forceful handful of his ass. He jumped and yelped as Venus perched her chin on his shoulder and gripped his bicep with her free hand.

“How about a little something for the road, baby?” she whispered huskily.

That alone made Tig’s eyes roll back into his head. He relaxed and smiled.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said eagerly.

Venus let go of his buttock and ran a hand down his back, feeling the muscles beneath his skin, primal instincts engaging. She kissed his shoulder teasingly, then took his hand.

“Come to bed, Tiger,” she said seductively.

Tig growled and followed, ready to pounce, and not caring if the other two bodies in the house heard.

***

“I love these sour candy things, man,” Tig said, unwrapping a piece of candy.

“I do, too, man,” Happy agreed, “They zap ya.”

Juice and I just laughed at them. We were relaxing at the table at Red Woody, Tig working the books for Lyla, Juice on his laptop doing some snooping for the club, me beside him, and Hap and Tig across from me, the three of us going through a pile of Halloween candy Tig had left over from this passed Halloween.

“Tig likes a good zapping, if you catch my drift,” Juice teased.

Tig popped the green hard candy into his mouth and cringed as he was flavor-shocked. Happy just laughed at him.

“Goddamn!” he growled, “Speaking of zapping, you got YouTube on that thing?”

Juice looked a little confused.

“Well, yeah. I have Internet,” he replied with a tone as if to say “Duh, dumbass.”

Tig got excited.

“Look up that video of the guy hooking a cow heart to a car battery and fucking it.”

Juice rolled his eyes and put his face in his hands.

“Jesus Christ!” he groaned.

“You are one fucked up motherfucker,” Happy said to Tig.

Tig jolted straight up and pointed an accusing finger at Happy.

“You’re one to talk,” he said, then turned to Juice, “No, really, Juice. Look it up. It’s funny. The guy accidentally electrocutes his dick.”

I snorted.

“Are you serious?” I asked.

Tig nodded and grinned.

“It’s the funniest damn video on the Internet,” he replied.

Chibs came in, bottle of beer in hand.

“You are not makin’ them watch that guy humpin’ tha’ cow heart,” he said.

Tig held his hands up.

“What? It’s funny,” he said innocently.

“You’ve seen it a hundred goddamn times,” Chibs argued.

Tig shrugged.

“That’s true. Okay, anyway, Juice, can you hunt around and find some really high-res security cameras? They’re for Diosa. Álvarez will reimburse you.”

Juice shrugged.

“Yeah, sure. Still having that security problem?” he asked.

Tig shrugged.

“Just a precaution,” he replied.

Juice nodded and clicked on a new tab on his browser, typing in an address that brought him an electronics website. Chibs walked up to the table and put a hand in his pocket while sipping his beer. Tig shot the Prez a look.

“Is it noon?” he asked.

Chibs shrugged.

“Irish hangover cure,” he replied.

The four of us laughed at that.

“You guys be ready in an hour. We have to be in Oakland by 3:00,” Chibs went on.

Happy untwisted a Tootsie Roll and nodded.

“You got it, boss,” he replied.

Tig and Juice nodded in agreement. Chibs gave a short nod before turning heading back down the hall. The four of us watched after him. Rat entered after him watching the Prez with his hands on his hips.

“He seems really sad,” he said.

I looked down at the pile of candy wrappers before meeting Tig’s eyes.

“Yeah, he does,” Happy agreed.

Tig reached over and drummed on my arm.

“Come on, kid. Let’s go to the store. I need a pack of cigarettes,” he said.

I agreed, and followed Tig to the door. Tig was quiet as we walked. I made no move to speak first, as I knew this had to be about Chibs. I just waited until he spoke.

“He’s worrying me, Cal,” he said finally.

I glanced up at the VP. He stared ahead in deep thought for a moment before looking down at me.

“Is there something I need to be worried about?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“I guess it depends on how well he digests personal shit,” I replied.

Tig groaned.

“Shit,” he whispered.

I bit my lip. I didn’t like the sound of that. Tig stopped and put a hand on my shoulder.

“Can you do me a favor, sweetheart?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Can you stay with him? Keep an eye on him? Chibs’ head is on straighter than all of us, but when it comes to family shit, he unravels. Would you mind staying with him for a while? Keep him level?”

I shrugged. I was more than happy to help.

“Of course,” I replied, “What should I do? Just ask to crash at his place?”

Tig nodded.

“Yeah, just say Venus and I are driving you nuts. Tip-toe around the question just in case he shits a brick. Don’t want to drop a bomb like that during a time like this, you know? Just ask. If he says no, that’s cool. Just…I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

I nodded.

“I got it. I’ll ask when we get back,” I replied.

Tig smiled and then pulled me into a hug.

“Thank-you, Callie,” he said.

I patted his back.

“You’re welcome, Tig.”

Tig pulled away and linked his arm with mine, leading me in a very animated stroll on our journey for a pack of smokes.

When we returned, Juice showed Tig a few camera options he had found. I slipped slipped down the hall search of Chibs. I found him standing in front of a window near the bar, watching the water traffic pass by, a cigarette between his lips.

“Hey,” I said.

I stood nervously as he looked to see me.

“Hey, darlin’,” he said softly.

He seemed to be in an okay mood, so I moved forward, remembering Tig’s advice. He was right. Chibs was fragile, and he had not even taken in account the bomb Fiona had dropped about Kerrianne’s true parentage. Asking this question was definitely not a convenience for Chibs, but I was just as worried about him as Tig. He was obviously in pain, and I was not sure how the SAMCRO President coped, but doing it alone was not an option.

“Um, I need to ask you something,” I said.

Chibs furrowed his eyebrows, concerned.

“What’s wrong, Callie girl?” he asked.

“Nothing bad. I just had something I needed to talk to you about,” I replied.

Chibs snuffed his cigarette into a glass ashtray on the bar, then pulled a barstool, gesturing to it.

“Sit down, darlin’,” he said.

I lowered my head and walked to the stool, sitting on it slowly. Chibs sat beside me and clasped his hands together, watching me worriedly.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just, um…I feel bad about asking this right now, and it’s okay if you say no, but…” I took a deep breath, pushing out that nagging voice that I was screaming that I was about to lie, “I was just wondering if that offer was still on the table to crash at your place. Venus and Tig, I love ‘em, but a little goes a long way.”

Chibs smiled at that.

“I know you’re going through some shit—“

Chibs reached over and took both of my hands in his.

“Sweetheart, you are more than welcome to stay with me if you want. Believe me, I know how those two are,” he replied, then looked away with a distant look in his eyes, “I _heard_ it this morning.”

I shook my head. I had heard their shenanigans, as well.

“Are you sure it’s cool?” I asked tentatively.

Chibs gave me a warm smile.

“Absolutely,” he replied.

I smiled back and thanked him. Chibs then stood up, and leaned down to hug me. He didn’t have to say anything to me. I could feel it. Gratitude.

***

Explaining the plan to Venus started off rocky. She took offense to it until I explained to her what Tig told me. After seeing how much of a wreck Chibs was, she agreed that it was a good idea, and helped me pack before driving me to Chibs’ place.

“It’s good you’re doing this, sweetheart,” Venus said as we drove down a long stretch of road leading out of Charming.

I looked over at Venus.

“Filip is a very reclusive individual. Sweet man. Heart’s always in the right place. But he gets a little lost some times. He bounces back, you know, but Tig and I both fear he will take a lot longer to come back around,” she looked over at me and smiled, “I think it will be an easier journey with a friend alongside him.”

I smiled at that. I was not sure how much help I would be, but I knew she was right. Sometimes knowing someone who cared about you is nearby helps immensely.  
Venus pulled up to a lone house about two miles from its neighbor. There were hardly any houses out here. It was all countryside, a massive field on one side, and home here and there on the other. The house we stopped at was up a gradual hill up against the tree line, which gave way to forest. Several large trees were in the front yard. There were no fences. Just a carport. The house itself was nothing special. Older, but looked like it was kept up well. In fact, the shingles on the roof looked new. The driveway formed a circle around a massive oak tree, which shielded the car from the rain as we pulled up.

“I always wondered what our Scotsman’s house looked like,” Venus said.

“You’ve never been here before?” I asked.

Venus chuckled.

“No, darling. I just knew the address,” she replied.

I nodded.

A headlight flashed through the back window, accompanied by the roar of a motorcycle engine. My heart rate began to pick up as I watched Chibs pull his bike under the carport. This was going to be interesting.

“And the king has returned to his castle,” Venus said, then patted my arm, “Come on, baby.”

I nodded and opened the door, grabbing my bag out of the floorboard as I climbed out. Venus grabbed my backpack out of the backseat and walked around to hand it to me as Chibs approached.

“There you go, baby,” she said.

I thanked her and started to slip it on when Chibs held his hand out.

“I can take it, darlin’,” he offered.

I looked up at him and soundlessly handed the backpack over. Chibs turned to Venus.

“You find your way, okay?” he asked.

Venus waved him off.

“Oh yeah. It was no problem,” she replied.

Chibs nodded.

“Good. Tig was heading home. He should be there when you get back,” he said, moving and tossing an arm around my shoulders.

“Oh, good. Thank-you, Filip,” she said.

Chibs shrugged.

“No problem,” he replied, then looked down at me, “Let’s get ya out of the rain, sweetheart.”

Venus touched Chibs’ arm and kissed his cheek. He, in turn, kissed hers.

“You take care of her, sweetheart,” she said.

“Don’t worry, darlin’,” he replied, then looked down at me, “Come on.”

He began to lead me away from Venus when I resisted.

“I’ll be in in a sec,” I said.

Chibs adjusted the backpack and nodded. I turned back to Venus and hugged her.

“Thank-you for letting me stay with you guys,” I said.

“You’re welcome, baby. And you’re welcome back any time, okay?” she replied.

“‘Kay.”

With that, Venus kissed my cheek before hopping in her car and heading back to Charming. I turned and walked up to the porch where Chibs was waiting, propping the screen door open with his back. He pushed open the inner door and let me in first. I walked inside to a dark foyer area, the only light being one lamp in the next room. Chibs shut the doors behind us.

“You want the grand tour?” he asked.

I just shrugged.

“Lead the way,” I said.

Chibs chuckled and led me to the first room off of the foyer, which happened to be a sunken living room with a big, rock fireplace and high, vaulted ceilings. The walls were white, but the furniture held a dark color scheme. Blacks and dark browns that complimented the hardwood floor. A large, old red area rug under a coffee table in the center of the room. There were two recliners on one side of the room, and a leather couch on the other. A painting of what I could only guess was Scottish countryside hung above it. A flatscreen television hung above the mantel, and a wooden Reaper sign hung on the wall between the two recliners. It was obvious only a man lived here, but it was homey, and clean.

“I’m no Venus at decoratin’, but I do my best,” he said.

I smiled and turned to look at him.

“It’s nice,” I said.

Chibs smiled and gripped my shoulder.

“Come on. Let me show ya the rest.”

I followed Chibs up and out of the living room and down a short hallway, into the kitchen. As with the living room, I was very surprised by the kitchen. It was neat, clean, and updated. There was a space right when you walk in for a table. He had shrugged his cut and knife holster off and set them on the light brown, wooden oval table, which seated six. The light wood matched the trim and cabinets which lined the walls over the counter. His large appliances were black and what was not black was stainless steel. The walls were a dark, forest green, and the room was brightly lit by a center light and a brass chandelier above the kitchen table. There was one window above the sink on the back wall, and sliding glass doors beyond the table, leading out to a porch and a large expanse of land, a pond sitting not too far out.

“Beautiful view, isn’t it?” he asked.

I smiled and looked up at him.

“Community pool?” I asked sarcastically.

Chibs looked out the window to the pond.

“Nah,” he said, “Tha’s mine, actually.”

I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Neighbors keep askin’ me to drain it,” he went on, then looked down at me and raised his own eyebrow, “Says it attracts snakes.”

I smiled. Of course it did. It’s a pond!

“I won’t, though. It attracts birds and deer. Gives me somethin’ peaceful to look at in the mornin’.”

I looked back to the backyard. Chibs’ tone leaned toward the bitter side. I knew he and the Sons had been dragged through the coals more than once. He deserved at least a small amount of peace.

“Come on. I’ll show ya your room,” he said.

With that, he led me out of the kitchen and down the hall. The first bedroom around the corner was the one we entered. Chibs stopped right in the door and turned to gesture to the other doors.

“My room is at the end of the hall. Bathroom is right across the hall. There’s only one, so we’ll have to share,” he said.

I shrugged.

“Cool with me,” I replied.

He nodded.

“Laundry room is next to yours in case you need to wash anything,” he said, then entered the room, “I use this room for an office. Ignore the clutter.”

I looked around to see an antique desk, covered in semi-organized piles of papers, a laptop closed underneath a motorcycle manual, an office chair with two boxes in it, placed on top of each other, and a futon, also covered in boxes and books.

“This folds out,” he said, tapping the arm rest of the futon, “I’ll clean it off later.”

I nodded. Chibs set my backpack down on the futon.

“I’ll let ya settle. Have ya eaten?” he asked.

I shook my head. Chibs nodded and stared at the floor in deep thought for a moment.

“I have an idea,” he said suddenly, then gestured for me to follow him.

I set my messenger bag on the futon and followed Chibs back to the kitchen. He went to the refrigerator and pulled out a large bowl covered in saran wrap. At first, I thought it was leftovers, but when he pulled back the plastic and revealed the contents, I was pleasantly surprised.

“Homemade dough?” I asked.

He nodded.

“I was planning on using this for dumplin’s, but I think it would make a pretty good pizza,” he said.

I smiled.

“Chef Filip,” I teased, trying his real name for the first time.

He didn’t bat an eyelash as he recovered the dough.

“Hey. When ya live on your own, ya learn how to cook on your own. I believe I’m a pretty good cook,” he said.

I smiled.

“I guess we’ll see,” I said.

Chibs brought the bowl to the counter beside the stove.

“You’ll have to be the judge. You’re the first person I’ve cooked for since I lived in Ireland.”

I raised my eyebrows, surprised at this. I wasn’t sure why, but I was.

“Lucky you,” he teased.

I just smiled.

“Come on. We’ll split it. You can have whatever ya like on your side. I like to load my side with everything.”

I nodded.

“‘Kay, cool. Let me put my jacket up and I’ll help.”

Chibs nodded and I shot out of the kitchen and back to my room/his office. I was ready to shake this awkwardness of being in his house and see if Chibs’ was the amazing chef he claimed to be.

In a little over an hour, Chibs and I were sitting on his couch scarfing down pizza and breadsticks made out of extra dough, watching some car show on TV. It was geared more towards men, but I didn’t mind. The cars were cool, and they often showed a motorcycle or two.  
As we relaxed, pizza nearly devoured, Chibs looked over at me. I felt his eyes on me for a long time, and I was immediately taken back to his little comment he made in the truck. I never said anything, pretending he wasn’t there as I watched the installation of a new engine into an old Camaro.

“Can I ask ya somethin’?” Chibs asked.

My heart skipped and I looked to see him staring right at me.

“About The VII?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“Yeah,” I replied.

Chibs shifted, one leg up on the couch and the other in the floor. He let his shoulder rest on the back of the couch, partially facing me.

“How were the Old Ladies treated? Like, in relation with the club? The usual wife role?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Most of the time. The ladies of The VII were treated like members. They even had a say in club business. They didn’t even have to ink in to have a vote,” I replied.

Chibs narrowed his eyes.

“‘Ink’ in?” he asked.

“Yeah. It’s like patching in. I’m not sure what the laws were on colors, but the Prez didn’t want us wearing patches, so instead, we wore ink. Arm sleeves, back pieces, chest pieces. So long as there was the number seven incorporated into the piece.”

Chibs nodded.

“Old Ladies were more than welcome to ink in or ride with the boys. I was the only one who rode with them. Didn’t get to go on runs for safety reasons, but I went on trips and stuff with them. The other girls never cared. They were all about nails and fashion and shit. But all of us were treated equally. We were family. I became official when I got my mark.”

Chibs tilted his head to the side. I smiled and explained.

“When a member asks his girlfriend to marry him, they have to take the mark of their Old Man behind their ear. It shows commitment to the club and the relationship. In turn, the guy gets his girl’s mark behind the corresponding ear. Of course, I was all in with Zero. Got mine immediately. See?”

I turned my head, pulled my right ear back, and showed him the number 0 behind my ear. Chibs smiled.

“I didn’t know ya had any tattoos,” he said.

I returned to my original position.

“Just that one for Zero,” I replied, “He had my name tattooed behind his ear in this really pretty, ornate cursive. For such a small tattoo, it was extremely detailed.”

Chibs nodded again, listening intently. I sighed and looked absently across the room, remembering our engagement tattoos. I remembered all of that boy’s ink.

“Z always had the most beautiful tattoos,” I said distantly.

Chibs reached for my hand and took it, giving it a sympathetic squeeze. I looked up and gave him a small smile, which he returned.

“After he died, I knew I had to ink in. Finish his legacy. Of course, I never heard from the boys after his death, and I couldn’t, but damn, I wanted in. I knew it was something I had to do. Now…” I trailed off.

Chibs didn’t need to hear the rest. As a response, he scooted closer and pulled me into a hug. I regretted telling him my sap story, as he had just been told that his kid that he obviously loved dearly was really the spawn of a devil. Still, perhaps he took it as a nice distraction, but I felt like he honestly cared.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’,” he said.

I gave Chibs a light squeeze before letting go.

“It’s okay. I’m just doing what I can to keep my promises to him,” I replied.

Chibs nodded understandingly.

“Why did you want to know about The VII’s Old Ladies?” I asked.

It really was an odd question. Then again, maybe he was trying to get more info on me.

“Meh. I was just curious,” he replied.

There was that, too.

I had several promises I had made to Z before he died, and one was happiness. I had a plan for happiness in my darkest hours, but Charming had upset that plan. However, as I sat here with Chibs, who seemed a lot better than he had been yesterday, I realized that I was happy. I was happy with Charming, these boys, and I was realizing that Chibs also made me happy. Again, I would not get my hopes up, or even try to possibly ruin this friendship, but I enjoyed the Scotsman’s company, and I was beginning to officially abandon my previous mission—a mission that in the end, led me no where. Here, I had something. Maybe the promise of a life rebuild. Family. Friends. Other things. That hope alone made me happy, and even more so to know that wherever Zero was, he could see my suffering coming to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys. For those of you watching SOA, you know we have lost Bobby. Bobby is in this story, but it takes place after the series ends. I have a feeling we may lose more, like Rat, possibly Tiggy and Chibs, too, so here is the deal. Bobby will no longer appear in this story. I'm not going to kill anyone off. However, if we lose more, this story will not be canon. We'll just have to pretend that Sutter didn't destroy our guys and move on.  
> ***
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!


	9. The Proposal

At Tig and Venus’s place, there were not many places to hide unless you lock yourself in a room. Of course, someone will figure out which room you’re in, and it ends up becoming a futile idea. At Chibs’ house, there were a few more places to hide. I could have hidden myself from Chibs with success, but what I wanted to run from, I knew I could never hide from.  
When I woke up this morning, it was from the shock of a dream I had had. I dream a lot. Most are random dreams that never make sense, and then there are good dreams that have no point, but those were rare, because the good dreams left me in tears when I woke up. Dreams that everything was fine. Dreams of Z. Dreams that I was fine. Then, there were the select few nightmares. All normal for me. However, this one, the one that had me shooting straight up in bed, was far from normal. I don’t know what scared me more. The fact that I enjoyed it, the content, or the nagging feeling of betrayal. It was the reason I found myself at the pond, freezing and not caring.  
I dreamt of Chibs. Now, that in itself is not so unusual. I had spent nearly two weeks with them. Most of my time was spent with him. Totally normal to have a dream about him, but this was no normal dream. It came in chunks—very vivid chunks. In the dream, I had been sitting on my bike in some dark lot, maybe TM, one foot on the ground and the other propped on the bike, having a cigarette. I haven’t smoked since high school. Chibs comes around a corner, stops dead, staring at me. Next thing I know, I’m against a concrete wall, and everything sexual that could have happened, would have if I had not awoken before things hit the point of no return.  
I guess it was understandable. I couldn’t lie to myself. I was attracted to the M/C Prez, but…it was strange for me. It all circled around to Zero, and lately I was having a hard time detaching. I had been with that boy since 10th grade. Moved in with him at 21 or so. He had been my best friend, my one steady and real relationship, and the only person on the planet I had ever been sexual with. When he passed away, I knew I would have to move on, and the mourning period had long been over. I knew I would have to separate Zero from another guy if I decided to move on. I knew I wasn’t betraying him, but thinking that and having the situation begin to happen without warning are two different things.  
It’s just a weird concept. I never thought I would backtrack my thoughts. I thought I would be okay because I knew what to expect, but things change when it comes to Chibs. He had saved me, welcomed me in as a friend, and one important factor that I believed made me rethink everything, was the fact that Chibs was in a M/C. The President of the club. He was familiar territory for me. When I thought about who, if there ever was someone, after Z, I never expected them to be in a club, or have anything to do with motorcycles. It seems stupid and I have a bit of hate towards myself for even trying to compare the two, but with familiar territory comes familiar memories. But only two weeks of knowing this guy, and crashing at his place until my bike is fixed (not to mention he was being so kind and paying for the damn thing), and having such a heated and vivid dream called for a bit of a mind break, and shaking like a leaf from the cold dawn air did the trick.  
I pulled my knees up to my chin, hugging my legs as I perched my chin on my jeans. The sun was beginning to peak over the trees, and a small family of deer had been making their slow journey back to safety. I closed my eyes for a moment. It really was peaceful here. Not the kind of peace I was expecting to find on this journey, though. None of this was expected. It felt like I was having a second chance at something.  
A soft weight landing on my shoulders made me jump and gasp.

“Ya must have some thick skin to be sittin’ out here in this shit.”

I looked up to see Chibs standing beside me, two cups in his hands. I looked at my shoulders to see one of his black jackets draped around me. He leaned down, handing me one of the steaming cups, then sat beside me. I let out a shaky breath and took a sudden deep interest in the cup of coffee in my hands. Chibs lit up a cigarette and took his first drag of the day before looking down at me.

“What the bloody hell are ya doin’ out here?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“Just…needed to clear my head,” I replied quietly.

I felt Chibs’ eyes on me, and I nervously looked up to meet him.

“Bad dream,” I elaborated.

Chibs took a sip of his coffee.

“You know, you’ve been havin’ a lot of those recently,” he said.

I sipped my coffee, which I must admit was not the best, and nodded.

“Yeah, I know,” I replied quietly.

The heat of the coffee moved through my chest, making me shiver at the sudden temperature change. Chibs put an arm around my shoulders. At his touch, my shoulders hunched up and I kept my head down.

“Are ya doin’ okay, Cal?” he asked.

I looked up at him and nodded.

“Yeah,” I replied, my voice not as certain I had wanted it to be.

Chibs watched me with concerned eyes. He shouldn’t be worried about me. It was I who should be worried about him. Of course, he wouldn’t let me.  
I sniffed at that thought. Reminded me of someone else…

“Ya know you can talk to me if there’s somethin’ goin’ on. I know I’ve been attractin’ a lot of the attention with my bullshit, but none of that is important. What’s done is done. I’m more concerned about these nightmares.”

I narrowed my eyes, studying him. Whether it was a distraction from himself, he generally cared, or both (each good in my eyes), I knew he should not worry himself over me. In that, I realized something that hit me like a ton of bricks. It was the reason I had that dream, I was sure. Dreams like that mean you have deep-rooted feelings for someone. You care about them. Love them, even. Things fell into place for me in a matter of seconds. I’m one of those people who believe that everything that happens, happens for a reason. I crash landed in Charming for a reason. I never made it to Seattle because I had unknown business with these guys. My background and my friendship with these guys happened for a reason. There may be more than one, of course, but I believe my main reason was not for my benefit, but for Chibs’. I was here to help him. To be a friend in this dark time. Someone outside of the circle who had clean hands, yet knew how these clubs worked. It was not my place to mourn over Zero, it was my place to help, and whether it was being moral support for Chibs, or anything they needed out of me that didn’t step over the line, I was in. Besides, I owed them.

“It’s probably just stress,” I replied with a shrug.

Of course, that only seemed to worry him more.

“I’m okay. I promise. I just wanted to get out here and, you know, get some fresh air. Besides that, it’s beautiful out here.”

Chibs nodded.

“Aye,” he agreed.

He placed his cigarette between his lips and pushed his long hair behind his ears. I studied him for a moment.

“What about you? You doing okay?” I asked.

Chibs blew a stream of smoke out of the corner of his mouth and took the cigarette between his fingers.

“Eh, I’m alright,” he said, absently picking a blade of dead grass from his boot, “I’ve decided that I wouldn’t cut ties with Kerrianne. Even if she knew the truth. If she ever needed me, I’ll still be there. Help. Money. Whatever she needs.”

I nodded.

“And Fiona?” I asked.

Chibs shook his head.

“Washed my hands of her,” he said.

“Yeah,” I replied quietly.

We were quiet for a moment. I shivered and pulled his hoodie closer around my shoulder and sipped the last of my coffee.

“Ya want some breakfast? We don’t have much time, but I can cook somethin’ up pretty fast,” he offered.

I smiled and shook my head.

“No thanks,” I replied.

Chibs looked at me and smirked.

“What? Don’t like my cookin’?” he teased.

I laughed. Aside from the coffee, which was probably cheap shit anyway, his cooking was fine. Better than Tig, who had tried to make dinner one night when Venus was working late. Let’s just say I won’t be able to eat any kind of pasta for a long time.

“Your cooking is just fine, Chibs. I’m just not hungry,” I replied.

Chibs smiled.

“Well, how’s your hip, then?” he asked.

I shrugged. The muscle that the bullet had damaged made cold mornings like this a pain in the ass.

“Nothing walking around won’t fix,” I replied.

He smiled and patted my shoulder.

“Ya think you’ll be good on a bike?” he asked.

I shuddered.

“Um, yeah. I guess,” I replied, stumbling over my words.

Chibs flicked out his cigarette, then tapped my arm and stood, holding his hand out for me. I took it and stood up, the hoodie slipping. I pulled it off and offered it back, as I wasn’t so cold anymore, but he just smiled at me.

“You’ll need it. Trust me. Come on. We have business at Diosa,” he said.

I waved for me to follow, and I started to, but I stopped in my tracks.

“Really?” I asked.

He smirked at me.

“Come along, Callie girl.”

He then headed for the porch, and I quickly followed his long strides, slipping into the too big, cigarette-scented hoodie.  
Chibs was dressed in his cut and helmet when I managed to stumble out of the front door after hurriedly getting ready. I had thrown on my own leather jacket, jeans and boots, and an old band t-tshirt, then tossed Chibs’ hoodie on over it before walking out the door. He was waiting at the door with his bike, handing me an extra helmet. When I took it and looked it over, I raised an eyebrow at him.

“What?” he asked.

“This is a cereal bowl,” I said.

Chibs smiled.

“Get on the damn bike, ya little shite!” he snapped playfully.

I rolled my eyes and put the archaic-looking piece of headgear on before holding his shoulders and mounting the bike. My hip protested a little, and when I felt the vibration of the bike, I knew I was in for some soreness tonight. This was not like my little racing Suzuki. It brought back memories of riding with Zero, and my own Harley before I sold it. I had never been on a Dyna, though.

“Ya better hold on, darlin’,” he said.

I settled and looked at the back of his head.

“This isn’t my first time riding bitch,” I said.

Chibs challengingly let the bike lurch forward, and I definitely underestimated the power of the machine beneath me. I yelped and scrambled to grab what I could of his cut. He just laughed at me.

“Bastard,” I growled.

“Ya gonna listen now?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes and held his sides. He revved the engine and then pulled forward, slowly this time, and rolled off of the driveway and onto the road, heading back to Charming. I ducked my face, laying my head on his back. Two things were absolutely certain. One, I had to get back on my own bike. I missed this. Two, never let Chibs know how much I kind of enjoyed this.

***

At Diosa, Happy was waiting, holding the door for us.

“Morning, boss. Callie,” he greeted.

I dismounted the bike and removed the helmet, placing it inside of a saddle bag.

“Mornin’,” Chibs greeted, hanging his helmet on a handlebar and pushing his hair back.

“Nathan, please!”

The sound of the woman’s voice echoed across the quiet street, grabbing out attention. I looked up to see a woman in a formal dress, long hair, about four months along, stomping down the sidewalk in her heels in pursuit of a Lexus parked outside of a store. A man, dressed just as nice with a blazer and patent leather dress shoes came storming after her.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the man, who I assumed was Nathan, shouted.

“Home!” the woman snapped back.

Happy, Chibs and I stared, watching the scene play out, wondering what had caused the outburst and waiting for what would happen next.

“Shit’s about to hit the fan, man,” Happy said.

Chibs put his hands on his hips.

“Aye,” he agreed.

“Christina, I’ve had enough. Get over whatever little hormone you’re having and get back in that store!” Nathan yelled.

Christina, like any woman should do when their man is being disrespectful, kept moving, unlocking the Lexus and opening the door.

“Hey! You do what I say or you are going to hear about it when we get home!” he shouted.

“You go to hell, Nathan!” Christina yelled back.

She then proceeded to get in her car when Nathan stomped after her. Before she, or any of us could do anything, he ripped the door open, slapped her, then yanked the poor woman out of the car and threw her to the ground.

“Shit!” Chibs snapped.

“Let’s go!” Happy said.

Chibs nodded, then turned to me.

“Stay here,” he ordered, then reached for the gun inside of his cut and ran after Happy.

Just as they sprinted away, Tig pulled up and parked beside Chibs. He killed then engine and looked to see the Prez and Sergeant at Arms take off.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked.

Nathan bent over to grab Christina by the collar, and I saw a gun hidden within the waistband of his gray dress pants. Shit.

“Hang on,” I said.

I took off up the sidewalk, ducking down in front of cars and plants. I moved between two cars, upwind of Chibs and Happy. I poked my head out to make sure the coast was clear, then slipped across the street to weave between obstacles.

“Don’t touch me, you greasy piece of white trash! Do you know who I am!” the Nathan guy demanded.

I heard a body slam again the car.

“Aye. And do ya know who we are?” Chibs threatened.

I moved behind a mailbox and reached into my pocket for my gun, turning the safety off. I peeked out to see an open parking space, the Lexus next to it. Happy was with Christina on the curb while Chibs had Nathan pushed up against the side of the car. He could bend him over the hood if he wanted.

“Bunch of degenerate low-lives,” Nathan replied through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, and we run this town,” Chibs said lowly.

Nathan cowered a little.

“And when we see shit goin’ down, you can be sure we’ll be in the middle of it,” Chibs continued, “Hurtin’ a pregnant woman? The only scum here is you, ya bastard.”

As Chibs spoke, I saw Nathan’s hand creeping around behind his back, reaching for the gun. I shot out of my hiding space, pounced on top of the hood of the car, and pressed the gun to his head in time for his gun to make it in his hand, but not above the waistline.

“Drop it, shithead,” I growled.

Nathan did as he was told, dropping the gun and slowly raising his hands up.

“Who’s this? Some psycho girlfriend of the gang?” Nathan asked.

I hissed, dropped to my knees on the hood, put the prick in a headlock and pressed the gun to his temple.

“No, but I’m not afraid to blow your goddamn brains out,” I said, “For hurting her—“

“Hey! She needs to listen to me. I’m her hus—“

I cocked my gun and pressed it deeper into his skin, tightening my arm around his neck.

“She doesn’t have to do shit for anyone! You’re not her boss, and I’m tempted to put two bullets in your skull for touching her, and for trying to pull a gun on my guys. I will fuck your shit up! Do you understand me? Huh?”

“Yes! Yes!” the guy said.

Chibs moved closer to Nathan, a terrifying look of hatred on his face.

“What do ya suppose we do about him, Cal? I think attackin’ a pregnant woman deserves blood,” he said.

I looked up at him and smirked.

“I agree, but not here. I have a better idea,” I said.

Chibs smiled and nodded.

“Strip his I.D.,” I said.

Chibs, for the first time in a little while, grinned.

“Hap, c’mere!” he called over his shoulder.

Happy checked with Christina to make sure she was good before marching over, manhandling Nathan, and retrieving the guy’s wallet, busting his lip before handing the wallet to Chibs.

“Thank-ya. Hold ‘em for me, Hap,” Chibs said.

Happy nodded, grabbed a squirming Nathan by the collar, and stared him down, not blinking. Chibs went through Nathan’s wallet, pulling out a wad of cash, flicking a credit card, which fell into the grate that led to the sewer, and a few I.D.’s. He tossed the wallet, then handed Happy the cash.

“Give it to her,” he said.

Happy nodded and they traded Nathan off. Chibs fisted his collar as he read the cards.

“We have your name, number, and we know where ya live now. I suggest ya get your prissy ass outta Charming, and if we ever see ya again, we’ll kill ya. And tha’s a promise,” he said, then swung the guy over, putting him in Happy’s hands.

Chibs walked over to Christina and helped her to her feet.

“We’ll take care of him for ya,” he said to her.

Christina nodded, drying tears on her cheeks and nose red.

“Thank-you,” she said.

I climbed off of the car and opened the door for her.

“Sorry if I dented the hood or anything,” I said.

She waved me off.

“It’s his car anyway,” she said.

I smiled and waited until she settled before shutting the door. She rolled down the window and thanked us again.

“No problem, darlin’. Ya just take care of yourself, yeah?” Chibs said.

She nodded and turned on the car before reversing and leaving. It was then Tig jogged across the road, eyes darting from one to the next in astonishment. His eyes then fell upon me.

“Jesus, kid. You pounce fast,” he said.

I smiled shyly. He then looked to Chibs and Hap.

“What happened?” he asked.

Happy yanked Nathan forward.

“Asshole attacked his pregnant wife,” Chibs replied.

Tig groaned and put his hands on his hips. Chibs handed Tig the identification cards. Tig took them with a bit of confusion.

“I’ll be calling the authorities,” Nathan threatened.

Happy actually laughed.

“Nah, ya won’t,” Chibs said, “Because my most mentally unstable and psychotic guys know where ya live. Now, I suggest ya run, or you’ll disappear forever.”

Happy let go of Nathan and rushed him. The pansy yelped and bolted. He smiled, watching him run. Chibs looked to Tig.

“Keep those handy. Have Juice run them. See what he can dig up,” he ordered.

Tig nodded and put the cards in his back pocket.

“Got it,” he said.

Chibs nudged Happy’s arm.

“Go chase that bastard on ya bike. Just scare him a little, then come back. We have church in an hour after we get these cameras installed,” he said.

Happy nodded, then gleefully jogged across the street to his bike. Chibs looked down at me.

“Ya don’t listen very well, do ya?” he asked.

“Hey, man, I saw his gun. I had to do something!”

Chibs cracked a smile, then yanked me to him with one arm into a playful headlock.

“I’m not mad at ya, darlin’. I’m proud of ya,” he said.

“Good thing she did what she did, though,” Tig said, “That guy could have shot ya, man.”

Chibs nodded.

“Come on. Let’s get this done. Then, Cal, you can join us for church,” Chibs said.

I tilted my head to the side.

“Church?” I asked, confused.

Tig laughed.

“Club meeting. We just call it church,” he replied.

I immediately felt stupid. Chibs smiled and tossed an arm around my shoulder.

“Didn’t your guys call it that?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“They just called it a club meeting,” I replied.

Chibs chuckled.

“Yeah, we get creative. Come on,” he said.

***

Chibs turned to Tig as they walked into the chapel.

“Ask Cal to stay until we call her,” he said.

Tig nodded and turned away to deliver the message. Chibs looked to the rest of the club.

“You guys mind if Callie joins us?” he asked.

The crew shook their heads.

“Callie’s joining us?” Juice asked.

Chibs nodded.

“Aye,” he replied.

Tig returned and shut the door. The crew took their seats around the table.

“I have a lot of things on my mind that we need to vote on, but I want to bring everyone up to speed on what happened this mornin’,” Chibs began.

“What happened?” Quinn asked.

Ratboy and Juice looked up, concern written on their faces.

“This mornin’, a pregnant woman was attacked by her husband across the street from Diosa,” he began.

“Hap and Chibs were already on it when I pulled up,” Tig added.

The members’ faces fell.

“Goddamn, brother,” Quinn said, “Was she okay?”

“Little shaken. Face a little bruised, but she was fine,” Happy replied.

“We tried to rough the guy up, but we know from the picnic last week that our Callie has eyes like a hawk. Spotted a gun in the guy’s pocket,” Chibs said.

“She snuck around the cars. Some sort of stealth soldier shit,” Tig said, “Jumped like a freaking cat on top of the car and pulled a gun on him just as he pulled his gun out.”

“Put him in a headlock. Threatened him. Had the brilliant idea of stippin’ his I.D. Then we had Hap chase him out of town,” Chibs finished.

Happy smiled.

“He ran like a little bitch,” he said, causing the crew to laugh.

When the laughter subsided, their attention went back to Chibs.

“This girl knows this life. She was an old lady once. She can ride. She can shoot. Not to mention, her home and family are gone. I want her in this club,” he said.

“First female member or SAMCRO,” Juice said.

Chibs nodded.

“Prospect?” Tig asked.

Chibs let out a deep breath.

“I thought about all of this last night. It would be insulting to patch her in as a Prospect, knowing what she knows. This girl has a lot of intel on South Cali M/Cs, knows her bikes and guns, and she’s not afraid to fight. I’m positive she would have shot that guy without a second thought. This proves she has what it takes.”

“But doesn’t prove that she has the balls to wear the Reaper,” Tig finished.

Chibs nodded.

“She’s in limbo between Prospect and Full Patch, as far as her skills are concerned,” he said, “But it’s only fair to start her as a Prospect like everyone else. I am changing a few Prospect rules and club bylaws, but she will have to go through probation just like everyone else.”

The crew nodded in agreement.

“I want to take a vote on this. We’ll bring her in here, let her see how a meeting goes, learn, and then we’ll ask her if she’s willin’ to join. She’s already tossed around the idea of movin’ here.”

“If she says no?” Tig asked.

Chibs shrugged.

“Then she says no,” he replied.

Tig nodded. Chibs looked to his brothers.

“Vote?” he asked.

They nodded. Chibs straightened in his chair, propping his arms on the table and clasping his hands together. He opened his mouth to speak when it suddenly occurred to him that he had no idea what Callie’s last name was.

“Ah, for fuck sake. What’s her last name?” he asked.

“Shepherd,” Juice and Tig replied in unison.

Tig shot Juice a glare.

“How do you know her last name?” he snapped.

Juice’s eyes widened.

“How do you know?” he retorted.

“‘Cause she fuckin’ told me! How do you know?” Tig asked, irritated.

“Background check,” Juice replied, “Jesus Christ!”

Tig let his guard down. It was Chibs’ turn to shoot a questioning look. Tig dropped his gaze from the President, surprised he was so quick to defend the young woman. Daddy instincts, he supposed.

“Was it supposed to be a secret?” Chibs asked.

Tig wriggled in his chair.

“Nah, man. I just didn’t know Juice knew. Now we all do,” he replied, clearly uncomfortable, “Didn’t she tell you?”

“I forgot,” Chibs replied.

Tig’s resolve broke and he smiled.

“Alright,” Chibs said, “All in favor of patchin’ in Callie Shepherd as our newest Prospect?”

“Yay,” Tig said without hesitation.

Chibs eyes moved to Ratboy.

“Yeah,” he replied.

They looked to Quinn.

“Hell yeah, brother,” he replied.

“Yay,” Juice said.

Nods and yays came from T.O. and Montez. The table then met Happy, who smiled wickedly.

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he said.

Chibs smiled.

“Yay,” he said, then pounded the gavel against the table, “Tiggy, go get her.”

Tig hopped up from his chair and walked to the door. Chibs looked down to Juice.

“Write some shit down for me, Juicy Boy,” he said.

Juice nodded and got up and went to hunt for a pen and notebook, which he found in the drawers of a file cabinet.

“Callie!” Tig called, “You can come in, sweetheart.”

Chibs smiled.

“Hey, boss?” Quinn asked.

Chibs looked to the long-haired biker at the end of the table.

“I got some boys coming in at the end of the week. Interested in being Prospects,” he said.

Chibs nodded.

“Good. Thank-you,” he replied.

***

I jogged down the hall to be greeted by Tig, who put a hand on my shoulder and walked me in.

“Go grab a seat, baby girl,” he said.

I nodded and went to a chair near the corner of the room, trying to ignore the stares. Chibs was at the head of the table, Tig and Hap to his right and left, respectively, Rat next to Tig, then T.O., and Juice and Rane next to Happy and Montez.

“I have a couple of changes in mind for the club. As most of you know, after what happened a few years ago with the cops blackmailing Juice with his father and Jackie Boy requesting a change in bylaws, all races are now allowed into the club. I know we choose colorful words, by I, for one, am not racist. None of us are.”

The crew shook their heads.

“I want to make this club a more equal M/C. Some of the stuff I’m requesting was never a rule, and could be overlooked, but I want this shit set in stone. So, my first order, Juice, write this down.”

Juice clicked a pen and readied it over the paper.

“Club equality. All races, genders, sexual orientations, and religions.”

Juice copied Chibs’ words.

“Next order I want to vote on is the bikes. All of us ride Harley, and we are huge fans, but all bikes are welcome. We are not exclusive.”

“Was that even a rule before?” Tig asked.

Chibs shrugged.

“Dunno, but I wanna make this clear,” he replied.

Tig nodded. Juice wrote down the topic.

“Third, I want to discuss our colors. Cuts, soft colors. I know we have the Reaper jackets, but I’ve been trying to think of something as meaningful as the cuts, but more under the radar. Too many times we’ve been given up because of colors, but I will not bend to society and simply not wear them.”

“Too true, brother,” Juice agreed.

“I agree, but we gotta wear our colors, man,” Tig said.

“What should we do, then?” Rat asked.

The crew remained quiet for a moment, thinking. I had an idea, but I didn’t say anything. As if he could read my mind, Chibs looked up at me.

“Any ideas, Callie girl?” he asked.

I jumped when I heard my name.

“Oh, um. Well...I know you guys probably don’t want to buy a bunch of new cuts, but why not have a blackout cut?” I asked.

Tig’s confusion was more than obvious, but Chibs looked intrigued.

“Blackout?” he asked.

Juice sat straight up, this hilarious look of realization on his face.

“Oh! I get it!” he said.

Happy shot him a look.

“Shut up!” he said.

“Explain, sweetie,” Tig requested.

I cleared my throat, feeling nervous as all eyes fell upon me.

“Well, have your normal leather, but have patches that are all black. Up close you can read them, but from far away, no one will see them, so no one will be able to identify you. That way you’re still wearing the Reaper,” I explained.

“They’ll stay cleaner, too,” Juice added.

Chibs nodded.

“I like that idea,” he said, then looked to his brothers, “What do ya guys think? Blackout cuts?”

“Yay,” the boys said in unison.

Chibs smiled.

“Yay,” he said, “How about the equality vote?”

“Yay,” they replied.

Chibs looked like he was going to crack up.

“And the bikes?”

“Yay,” they said.

“Yay,” he said, “‘Kay. We have one more thing we already voted on. About Callie.”

I felt my eyes widen.

“Me?” I asked in surprise.

Chibs smiled warmly.

“Yeah, darlin’. As ya know, we need bodies at this table, and we’re more than impressed with ya. We all like ya. We want ya to patch in,” he said.

I felt my jaw drop.

“You’re shitting me,” I said, my voice deadpan.

“We shit you not, baby girl,” Tig replied.

“We already voted,” Juice said.

I looked from Juice to Tig and Chibs.

“Decision was unanimous. Now, it’s up to you,” Chibs said.

I stared at him, speechless.

“And even if you don’t want to,” Tig said, “You have a family with us. All of us.”

The crew nodded.

“Absolutely,” Juice agreed.

I took a deep breath. All of me wanted to say yes, and I would have, but one factor kept me from it, and that was the concept and my knowledge of what being a Prospect meant. What I would have to do—to go through. Wasn’t happening.

“Prospects get treated like shit,” I said in a tone as if they didn’t know that fact.

Tig shrugged.

“Meh. We used to rough ‘em up a bit, but we usually love ‘em. Ask Rat,” he said.

Rat smiled shyly.

“Perhaps too much,” he said.

Tig just laughed, but I wasn’t phased. They couldn’t be serious. There was always a condition.

“No special initiation? No strings?” I asked.

Chibs leaned back in his chair and furrowed his eyebrows, concerned.

“No, we’re not animals. What did they do to Prospects in The 7?” he asked.

The question was, what didn’t they do? I remembered Zero coming home one night in tears and a broken knuckle from getting in a fight with the Prez, trying to defend a Prospect. He hated the shit they did to them, but was forced to always back the President’s decisions. They were wrong decisions, and along with Z’s health concerns, it was the reason he wanted to back away from the club. I think it was watching the Prospect’s head being backed over that broke him.

“They did evil shit to those kids. Being a Prospect was only something to be proud of for the first 24 hours. Initiations involved everything from mugging the elderly to raping women to crashing a minivan full of kids. Not to mention getting the shit beat out of them by the crew. Not one Prospect made it, and barely any lived. They were either killed by the club, killed in a fight with the enemy, or bailed. Even then, the crew went after them and caught most of them.”

“Are you serious?” Juice asked.

I nodded.

“I’ll help you guys out any way you need me, but Prospect…”

Chibs shot up from his chair and approached me.

“Callie, darlin’, listen,” he said.

He stepped up to me and gently gripped my shoulders. He leaned down to eye level with me.

“We have never, and will never do that to our Prospects. To anyone. We take care of each other. We’re not sadists, and I sure as shit wouldn’t let somethin’ like that happen to ya,” he said, then softened his voice, “Bein’ a Prospect for the Sons does not mean what it means for other clubs.”

“It’s something to proud of,” Rat said.

Chibs pushed his ringed fingers into the pockets of his jeans.

“I can assure, ya, darlin’, we do things a lot differently in the north,” he said.

I nodded.

“I would hope so,” I replied.

Chibs gave me a small smile.

“Do I have to decide right now?” I asked.

Chibs shook his head.

“Take all the time ya need,” he said.

I nodded. Chibs patted my shoulder.

“Just say yes now,” Juice said, pouting.

“Yeah,” Rat agreed.

I smiled at them.

“Give her a damn minute! Jesus!” Chibs said, walking back to the head of the table.

I watched as the crew finished off their meeting, my mind reeling. Prospect for the Sons of Anarchy Mother Charter? And these guys thought I had the stuff? I had wanted nothing more than to ink in for The VII, especially after Z passed away, but never did I think I would get the chance to say yes.  
I knew what would be asked of me, as SAMCRO’s problems when Jackson Teller ruled the roost were famous M/C-wide, if not statewide. I was no stranger to using a gun, or being put in a position where I would have to kill someone. When you live this life, bullets are just for survival, as are claws, teeth, and venom for a predatory animal. I had no reservations about killing for The VII, and would not have any for the Sons. I was okay with what I knew I would have to do, and knew what I had to do to prove my worth, it was just that this was so unexpected. My original plans for the rest of my life had turned completely around. I was being given a family and a home again, and even if I decided not to patch in, I knew I had friends in arms reach if I decided to move here. I just wanted to weigh my options.

“We good?” Chibs asked.

The crew nodded. Chibs slammed the gavel down, ending church. The crew stood up. I started to follow the guys out when Chibs grabbed my attention.

“Hang on a sec, sweetheart,” he said.

I stopped in my tracks. Rat patted my shoulder as he brought up the rear, and shut the door as he exited the room, leaving me alone with the Prez. I looked from the door to Chibs, who was watching me curiously, trying to read me.

“You know I meant what I said. We would never hurt ya. You have my word on that,” he said.

I nodded.

“I know,” I replied quietly.

He tilted his head slightly to the side.

“Is this really somethin’ ya would be interested in?” he asked.

I nodded quickly.

“Definitely,” I replied.

Chibs smiled at that.

“It’s just a big decision,” I went on.

“Yeah,” he said, then pushed himself to his feet with a grunt before approaching me, “There’s a few things to work out, but when you’re ready, we’ll get ya set up. And I promise I’ll help ya house-hunt.”

I smiled at that.

“Sick of me already?” I asked.

He laughed and roughed up my hair.

“Meh. You’re alright,” he said playfully.

I laughed and he patted my back.

The door opened and Tig poked his head in.

“I just got a call from Álvarez. We gotta go,” he said.

“Yeah,” Chibs replied.

Tig disappeared again, heading back down the stairs. Chibs looked down at me.

“Be good, Callie girl. Quinn will be by later to pick ya up and take ya to TM. He has some questions about your bike,” he said.

I nodded. Chibs started for the door and gripped the knob.

“‘Kay. Stay safe,” I said.

Chibs opened the door, turned to me, and gave me this weird look. Almost a look of surprise. Shit, what did I say?  
He then smirked.

“Don’t ya worry about a thing, darlin’,” he said, a little bit of mischief in his dark eyes.

I had to smile. Bastard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave some love!


	10. Panic

Night had fallen upon Charming and the guys had returned to TM to regroup, and then head home. Their run, to my knowledge, had not been one of success, nor had it gone south. Just a routine annoyance and a lot of miles. They were tired and hungry when they returned, and some decided to go to the bar. Chibs was ready to go home, and as I stood by his bike, waiting on him to return from using the bathroom, Tig was hunting through the garage trying to find my helmet. I had been looking for it all afternoon, and Tig had said he remembered seeing it, and went to see if he could find it. Luckily, he did.  
I was leaning against the Dyna as Tig walked out of the garage, my helmet dangling from one hand and the orange glow of a cigarette illuminating from his mouth. He walked up to me, playfully shoved me with his hip, and handed me the helmet as he sat down in Chibs’ seat.

“Hey,” I laughed.

Tig pretended as if nothing happened and flicked out his spent cigarette.

“Don’t like our helmets?” he asked.

I looked up at the curly-haired man to see him grin.

“I prefer mine,” I replied, wondering what he expected me to say.

Tig crossed his arms over his chest, smiling.

“They do look silly. Especially on me. I’m completely disproportionate, anyway,” he said.

I smiled and looked down at the black piece of headgear, which had a giant scuff up the side from the crash.

“You think, if I agree to patch in, Chibs will still let me wear this one? I know all of you wear the same style of helmet,” I said.

Tig shrugged.

“I don’t think he’d care, baby girl. You could probably ask him anything and he’d say yes,” he replied.

I nodded in agreement. Chibs reappeared seconds later, walking through the garage as Juice, Rane and Hap were helping close up. He said goodbye to them and headed our way.

“How’s he been doing?” Tig asked quietly.

I shrugged.

“He seems better,” I replied, “Been pretty relaxed.”

Tig nodded.

“Good. Probably helps that he has some company,” he said.

“Yeah,” I agreed quietly.

When Chibs was in hearing range, Tig stood up before he could be yelled at, then leaned down and hugged me.

“You’re a good girl, Cal,” he said, then pulled away, “Call me if ya need me.”

I smiled and nodded.

“I will,” I replied.

“And Venus says she misses you and when ya get some free time, she wants to go do girly shit.”

I laughed.

“Can do,” I replied.

Tig winked at me, and with that, left a friendly pat on Chibs’ back as they passed each other and the VP went on his way. When Chibs came close enough for me to clearly view him, I could tell he was minutes away from passing out on his feet. His eyes, already heavily hooded, were hardly visible, they had sunken in so far. He was exhausted.

“Ya ready to go, Callie girl?” he asked.

I straightened up and nodded.

“Yeah,” I replied.

Chibs grabbed his helmet from the handlebars and seated himself on the Dyna, placing his helmet over his head.

“You good to ride, man? You look pretty tired,” I said.

As Chibs started to fasten his chin strap, he cut his eyes up at me, stared at me for an uncomfortable six seconds before letting out a short, but amused laugh.

“I ain’t ridin’ bitch, Callie. No way,” he said.

I smiled and put my own helmet on before climbing on behind him.

“You men and your pride,” I said jokingly, “Won’t even take a favor.”

“Hey, now,” he replied, “I appreciate it, trust me. A man has got to control his bike, though.”

I rolled my eyes and pulled my shield down.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.”

I held his sides as he started the bike. He then slowly pulled out of the TM parking lot and we made the tired ride home.

***

Juice arrived at TM early the next morning, several hours before it opened, as asked. He had always done as asked, no matter what.  
That idea hung heavy over his head as he rode to the site of the old clubhouse, blown up by the Irish. The place where he had been patched in the first time, and had later been granted Full Patch. The place where everything started. Would he have taken it back for a second? Never. Not those moments of brotherhood. However, he would never wish his life on anybody. The betrayal. The beatings. Trying to make things work, yet missing the point—the reason Chibs never went through the same shit. Under Jax Teller, there had been no rational point. The rules were fucking stupid. Family meant nothing when one rule, which for all logical reason should never exist, was broken. When it meant building lies upon lies to save yourself, when you should never had had to. When doing the right thing to make up for a wrong, led you to run from the charter you called home. Family—brotherhood. It had never meant shit under the brotherhood. Rules had changed now under Chibs, but still…the things that had been asked of him…  
Juice opened up the shop and found Callie’s bike clean, polished, and ready to go. Quinn, being the only one anyone really trusted to ride it, gave it a test ride, running the bike through its paces before using Chibs’ credit card to fill the tank, and bring it back to TM with a passed inspection. Chibs did his own check before deciding that the bike was indeed golden, and had made plans with Juice to put it on a flatbed and haul it to Red Woody. They were going to surprise Callie today.  
Juice busied himself with a polishing cloth while waiting on Chibs. He didn’t have to wait long before the familiar sound of a motorcycle echoed from the road. Juice looked up from the handlebars to see one of his brothers pull in, but it was not Chibs. Ratboy. Juice turned his attention back to the back until he was certain he had polished every fingerprint away. Ratboy parked his bike up and walked up to the garage, removing his gloves and watching the older Son curiously.

“Hey,” he said.

Juice looked up from the bike and nodded.

“Hey, man,” he replied.

Ratboy slowly moved to the workbench to grab a stool.

“What are you up to?” Juice asked as he circled the bike, checking the chrome for blemishes.

Ratboy smiled at Juice. He knew that bike was spotless, but telling this to Juice was futile. Not with his OCD.

“Came to open up, but looks like that’s been taken care of already,” he replied.

Juice looked up at Ratboy.

“Yeah, Chibs asked me to come and get the bike ready,” he replied.

Ratboy nodded.

“Cal gettin’ her bike back today?” he asked.

Juice nodded.

“Think she’ll make a good Prospect?” Ratboy asked.

Juice looked to the younger man and watched him for moment, his mind flooding with the morning’s worries that had been put to a halt as he occupied himself with opening the garage and the bike.

“Yeah. I just…” Juice trailed off.

Ratboy watched Juice, waiting for him to finish, but the moment was lost when another motorcycle pulled in. Chibs.  
The two looked up and watched the club President park his bike before he walked into the garage.

“Mornin’,” he said gruffly.

Juice and Ratboy nodded to him and replied with their “mornings.” Chibs gestured to the bike.

“We good?” he asked.

Juice nodded.

“Ready to roll,” he replied.

Chibs nodded, then looked up at Ratboy.

“Get the truck,” he ordered.

Ratboy obeyed and eagerly disappeared into the office in pursuit of the keys. Chibs turned back to Juice.

“Let’s get this bike loaded. Rat can take it to Red Woody. Follow Rat and you and Cal can go ridin’ today. Rat’s gonna come back here and get caught up some business. I have some shit I gotta do, but I’ll meet up with ya at Red Woody later,” he said.

Juice nodded. Chibs patted his back and started for Callie’s bike when Juice stopped him.

“Hey, just a sec,” he said.

Chibs stopped and looked down at him, confused. Juice fidgeted nervously under the President’s gaze.

“Can you promise me something?” he asked.

Chibs turned, Juice now having his full attention.

“What’s up, Juicey?” he asked.

Juice swallowed.

“Just…I’m all for Callie to patch in, but…promise me you won’t ask of her what Jax asked of me. All of that bullshit. I know you always sided with the club rules—“

“Old rules. Rules that weren’t fuckin’ right. Even Jax knew that. Trust me, boy, I’m not goin’ to let what happened to ya, happen to her, or anyone. Nor will it happen to ya again. Understood?”

Juice nodded. Chibs gently gripped the back of Juice’s neck, pulling the younger man against his side.

“Listen, I know a lot has changed and it seems unfair, and I know I sort of cheated the system and made up a bunch of pussy rules, but these are different times now. Change has been long overdue,” Chibs continued.

Juice nodded understandingly. Chibs butted his forehead against the tribal tattoo on the top of Juice’s head.

“I know,” Juice said quietly.

“We don’t have to lie to each other anymore,” Chibs said.

Juice smiled at that. How he dreamed of never keeping another secret.

“It’s a fresh start. Remember that. Now, help me get this damn thing loaded,” he said.

Juice smiled at that, and followed Chibs to retrieve the straps and push Callie’s bike onto the flatbed.

***

“You guys ever see that Dumbo movie with that acid trip scene? All the marching elephants and shit?” Tig asked.

Rane shot the VP a look, and Happy laughed.

“What the fuck are you watchin’ fuckin’ kids movies for?” Rane asked.

“Hey! I had two daughters…and I was goin’ through a phase where I was on a lot of mushrooms, but that’s beside the point. Cal, you know what I’m talkin’ about, right?” Tig asked.

I smiled and nodded.

“Unfortunately, I do. Hated that movie. Sad as hell,” I replied.

Tig tapped my arm.

“But you know what I’m talking about! Okay, so I had this nightmare last night that I was watching that fucked up elephant scene, but instead of elephants, there were all these sex dolls. I just…fuck no!”

We all started laughing

“Fuck sex dolls,” Tig spat.

Happy snickered.

“Literally,” he commented.

Tig rolled his eyes and flicked a bottle cap at him.

It had been a long morning, and it was just barely nine o’ clock now. Chibs had forced me to get up at the crack of dawn, saying he had important shit to do and that I needed to be at Red Woody as soon as possible. He wouldn’t tell me what was going down, and I didn’t ask. I just hopped on the back of his bike and he left me in the company of Rane and Happy until some of the other Sons showed up. During which time, some actresses had shown up to film today’s movie, which the boys had been eager to sit behind the camera and watch. I just rolled my eyes. Men.  
The door opened as Tig was delving deeper into his twisted little dream, revealing Juice. I sighed in relief. Good. Someone to talk to.  
Lyla approached us, wearing clothing that would have been trashy and skimpy, had the actresses been more covered. She looked like a nun.

“We’re about to start rolling if you guys want to come get a sneak peak,” she said.

The guys eagerly stood up and followed Lyla to the set. I shook my head and looked back down at the bar. Juice approached me, looking after his brothers.

“What was the flick of the day?” he asked.

“‘My Little Pony Ride,’” I replied.

Juice laughed and stepped up to me. He seemed to be in a cheerful mood, tapping his fingers against the countertop, his brown eyes bright and rested.

“Interesting,” he commented.

I smiled and tilted my head to the side, watching the boy curiously.

“What?” I asked, “You don’t wanna watch?”

Juice smiled and shook his head.

“Last production I watched I believe involved a bottle going up a guy’s ass,” he replied.

I laughed and cringed.

“Jesus,” I groaned.

Juice laughed.

“Why don’t you come outside? Found something kinda cool,” he said.

I eagerly hopped off the barstool and followed him just as I heard Tig make a My Little Pony joke.

“Hey! If she’s not careful, she’ll get Rainbow Rash!” he said loudly.

I shook my head, held back a laugh, and followed Juice out the door.

“Yuck,” I commented as we walked out the door.

Juice laughed.

“How about we hit the road?” he asked.

I almost asked him “With what?” when I saw it. My bike, sitting next to his Harley, shining like new, looking as good as it had in the showroom.

“Holy shit!” I gasped, “It’s done?”

I walked up to it and gripped one of the handlebars.

“Yeah. Quinn checked it out. Test drove it. Says it runs like beast. Chibs checked it out, too. You’re all good, Cal,” he replied.

My excitement to see my bike in one piece with the promise of hitting the road again hit me like a freight train. It was strange. When I left home, heading north, I honestly didn’t think I would feel the rush you get—that pure adrenaline and impatience to hit the road for a high-speed joy ride. This was just…I can’t even begin.

“This is awesome! Where’s Chibs and Rane? I need to thank them? Rat, too,” I replied.

Juice shrugged.

“They’re working at TM. We can talk to them later. Chibs had business to take care of, but we’ll see him later,” he replied.

I nodded.

“Go get your helmet. The tank is full, so let’s hit the road.”

Excited, I ran back inside to grab my helmet from where I had left it with my bag, tucked away beside a couch, and bolted back outside. Juice was straddling his bike and buckling his helmet. I mounted my own bike, kicked up the kickstand, and put my helmet on. When I did, though, a strange feeling spread through me, starting in my chest and swirling down to my stomach, as if I had inhaled a large amount of freezing cold air. I put my hands on the handlebars in preparation to start the engine, but my elbows locked. Without warning, my mind raced back to that night. The darkness. The heart-stopping jolt of being catapulted from my bike. Just knowing as I crawled through the gravel, fumbling for my gun, that I was going to die. Before that, I had never been afraid to die.  
My heart went from zero to 100 in a millisecond, breathing became difficult, and I realized that I had to get off of the bike. I put the kickstand back down and nearly shot off the bike—in the most clumsy way possible as I stumbled over my feet in my rush to get away from the machine.

“Cal?” Juice asked.

I felt my knees shaking, and had to take several deep and slow breaths to keep myself from either passing out, or psyching myself out and actually passing out. Juice unbuckled his helmet, hung it on the handlebars of his bike and dismounted.

“Cal, what’s wrong?”

I stared at my bike, trying to wrap my head around everything. What was wrong with me? I’m not a pussy. I don’t panic. I don’t get scared. I get back in the saddle and go.

“Callie,” Juice said sternly.

I broke contact from the bike to find him right in front of me, worry written clearly on his face.

“You okay?” he asked.

I swallowed dryly, my mind cloudy.

“No,” I replied, shaking my head, then my mouth went into overdrive, “I can’t do it, Juice. I thought I could do it but I can’t do it. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Juice gripped my shoulders.

“Callie, easy. Easy. Slow down. Breathe,” he said.

I looked up to meet his dark brown eyes.

“What is it? Is it your hip?” he asked.

“No,” I replied.

“‘Cause you’ve been ridin’ with Chibs fine,” he continued.

I shook my head.

“No. I just…” I trailed off to catch my breath, “I can’t. I’m sorry, Juice.”

Juice shook his head.

“It’s okay, Cal. I understand. Look, come here,” he said, pulling me into a hug, “We can go another time.”

I sighed and let go of him.

“Things like this take time. Believe me. I’ve crashed a few times myself. I understand what you’re goin’ through.”

I just nodded.

“God, we can’t let Chibs know,” I said.

Juice furrowed his brows in confusion.

“What do ya mean?” he asked.

“If he knows I freaked…what if he reconsiders letting me patch in?”

Juice laughed, and for a brief second, I wanted to slap the kid.

“He won’t. Trust me. He’ll understand. Look, you’re white as a sheet. Let’s put the bikes up, and we can try again when you feel ready, ‘kay?”

I nodded.

“Yeah,” I replied quietly, “Yeah, okay.”

He smiled and patted my shoulder. I pushed my hair out of my eyes. I needed to calm down. Get right. Quit being a fucking pussy.

“Um, I’m gonna call Venus. Go and chill for a little while.”

Juice nodded.

“Okay. We can try another day, okay?”

I just nodded and turned to go back inside. As I opened the door, I looked back over my shoulder.

“Hey.”

Juice looked up as he prepared to move my bike. I gave him a small smile.

“Thank-you,” I said.

Juice smiled.

“Welcome.”

With that, I returned inside and pulled my cell phone out of my pocket to call Venus. She answered within three rings.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she said, her southern drawl, even through the phone, was a a comfort.

“Hey, are you home?” I asked.

“Yes, baby, I am. What’s goin’ on?”

I sighed.

“Can you come pick me up?”

***

Chibs returned to Redwoody at noon, a saddlebag full of goodies he had picked up. Small gifts for his club. Current and pending members. He had ordered the items not long after the agreement to patch Callie in, and he was excited to surprise his crew.  
As he walked into Redwoody expecting to find no one except Lyla’s actors, he was surprised to find Juice in the office, slipping his cut on. When both men saw each other, Juice jumped and Chibs stared at him in surprise.

“Hey,” Chibs spoke.

“Hey, you scared me,” Juice said.

Chibs walked in, setting the bag of items he had picked up on the desk.

“I didn’t expect to see ya. What are ya doin’ here?” he asked.

“He was helping me with the books,” a female voice spoke.

Chibs turned to see Lyla enter and hand Juice a large calculator. She smiled as he took it off her hands and thanked him. Chibs raised his eyebrows.

“Books, huh?” Chibs asked.

Juice watched the President nervously.

“Yeah. Just trying to help out, ya know? Lyla stopped me and asked if I would go over some stuff. I helped her out and cleaned up a little. Was just about to head to TM and make use of myself,” he explained.

Chibs’ eyes narrowed.

“What happened to goin’ out for a ride with Callie?” he asked.

Juice shrugged.

“She wasn’t ready, brother,” he replied.

The wrinkles on Chibs’ forehead deepened with his confusion.

“She’s been ridin’ with me and she was fine,” he said.

Juice set the calculator down on the desk and let his free hand fall heavily against his jeans.

“As soon as she got on that bike, she panicked. That crash traumatized her, man. It’s gonna take some time,” the younger man explained.

This worried Chibs, and he wanted to speak with her as soon as possible.

“Where is she?” he asked.

“Tig’s place. Venus picked her up. Guess she needed some…girl time.”

Chibs smirked.

“Alright. You head to TM. Help Chucky out while you’re on a roll. I’ll head to Tig’s and talk to her,” he replied.

Juice nodded and said goodbye to the President before heading out. Chibs picked up the bag and groaned to himself. He was not surprised that this had happened. He should have expected it. The first time he crashed a motorcycle, he swore off of them for good. Of course, now you would never seem him without one. He felt sorry for Callie, as he knew how frightening it could be. He wanted to offer his advice and provide some sort of comfort. He had to make sure that she was okay, and if not, then he would try to make it okay.


	11. The Rose and The Reaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing some members of The VII.

“Here ya go, sugar.”

I looked up from the talk show playing on the television to see Venus enter with a glass of ice water. She smiled and handed it to me, and I thanked her as she sat down on the couch beside me.  
I let out a shaky breath and twisted the cold glass between my hands. Venus put one arm around my back, her hands gripping my shoulders.

“It’s perfectly understandable that you reacted the way you did, sweetheart. It was a terribly frightening thing to happen. To panic is natural,” she said.

I shook my head.

“Riding a fucking bike shouldn’t be a place for panic. Or fear. Fear is when someone is trying to kill you,” I spat lowly.

“Fear is inevitable, Callie. It can happen anywhere at any time. Now matter how fearless you are or how you have been trained, it can raise it’s ugly head at the drop of a hat. The key is not letting it win,” she said, “You understand?”

I nodded. She was right. Of all the shit that I had been through and experienced in my life, a little post traumatic stress disorder should not even phase me. Then again, now that I was calmer, and had had a long talk with the ever affectionate Venus, I realized that maybe riding wasn’t what had triggered my panic attack. In fact, I knew it wasn’t.

“Why don’t you go to your room? Lay down and relax. I’ll make you some lunch,” she suggested.

I looked up at her and gave her a small smile.

“‘Kay,” I replied quietly.

Venus smiled warmly, leaned down to hug me, and kissed my cheek. Just the hug alone made me feel a lot better, if just for a few moments. I needed this—Mom time. It had been a long time since I felt any kind of maternal love from anyone. Venus provided that comfort I needed.  
I stood from the couch and headed down the hall in silence. I never made it to my room. I kept walking, finding myself walking into the backyard to sit in the garden swing among the trees and Venus’ plants. I sat in silence, letting my wander. I wasn’t scared of that bike. If I had been scared of it, I would have never been happy to see it—excited to ride. No. It was the night that things happened, triggered by the familiar feel of the bike that engaged my panic. Not only that night, but the six years before, and everything that happened within that time. Living alone, dealing with sadness on my own. Losing everything that was keeping me stable. The reason I left…the reason I packed lightly…the reason I was carrying that gun.

“Hey.”

I jumped out of my thoughts, physically shuddering as my head snapped up to see who the voice belonged to, as it wasn’t Venus’ soft southern drawl, but a deep voice with a slight lilt.  
On the back porch, sliding the door closed, was Chibs.

Shit.

“Hey,” I replied, my throat suddenly dry.

Chibs walked off of the porch and slowly approached me.

“Juicey said you’d be here,” he spoke.

I looked down at the grass. It was starting to brown and beginning it’s transition as fall ebbed away and winter approached. The cool air sent a cold chill through me, and I suddenly wished I had worn a jacket. I kept absolutely still, though. I could take the cold, even though the painful goosebumps on my arms betrayed me.

“Mind if I sit with ya, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his boots now in my field of vision.

I looked up at him through the fringe that had fallen in my eyes and shook my head. Chibs moved and sat down on the swing beside me. I kept my head down and kept my hands tightly clasped together, as if the cold would go away the harder I held on.

“What happened?” he asked.

I snorted and looked across the yard.

“I don’t know. I freaked,” I replied.

I looked from the fence to Chibs, caring brown eyes staring back at me.

“I have never wrecked a bike in my life,” I said.

Chibs gave me a small smile.

“Hell, Callie girl. We all wreck. No one is bloody fuckin’ perfect. Is that what this is about? You’re afraid you’ll wreck again?” he asked.

I shook my head. Chibs amusement fell away and he studied me for a moment. Then, he scooted closer and gripped my arm.

“Hey. This panic happens after your first crash. It’s nothin’ to be ashamed of. What happened to ya was a traumatic experience. Get back on isn’t gonna be easy, but it will happen.”

I looked up at him.

“Baby steps, yeah?” he asked, leaning to lightly nudge me.

I smiled and nodded. I let my gaze drift back down to my hands. Chibs shifted on the swing.

“Hey. Callie, look here.”

I obeyed. Chibs eyes filled with worry and he gently grasped my face, brushing my hair out of my eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked, “You can tell me, ya know?”

I sniffed and nodded.

“Yeah, I just…Chibs, I normally don’t do this. I’m not a chicken shit,” I said.

“And I believe ya. Why would I think you’re a chicken shit? Ya’d be a chicken shit not to be scared.”

“I just didn’t want you to change your mind…about patching in,” I replied.

Chibs smiled. He let go of my face and leaned over to reach inside the bag that until this time, I had not noticed he had been toting.

“And what makes ya think,” he said, grunting as he fished whatever it was out of the bag.

When he found the sought after items, he set them in my lap. When I realized what they were, my jaw fell.

“I would change my mind?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

I reached into my lap to pick up a few blacked-out rockers and flashes sitting on top of two t-shirts, one white and one light blue. Colors. Two of the flashes were their signature Redwood Original flashes, one was the reaper and the California charter rockers, one was a Prospect rocker, and the other two were some I had never seen on any member from any Californian M/C. One was a rose. The other said “SCOUT.”

“Welcome to the family, sweetheart,” Chibs said.

He stood from the swing. I stared up at him.

“This is official?” I asked in disbelief.

He smiled and shrugged.

“After church, it will be,” he replied.

I set the badges and shirts aside and jumped up to hug him.

“Thank-you,” I said into his shoulder.

Chibs squeezed me, perhaps a little too hard.

“You’re welcome, Callie girl,” he replied.

Chibs kissed the side of my head and let me go. He then picked up the bag.

“Come on. Grab your stuff. I’ll explain what everything means when we get to the table,” he replied.

I nodded and grabbed my things before following Chibs back inside and riding out to Redwoody.

***

“You got right on top of these, huh?” T.O. asked as Tig passed him his new badges.

Chibs sat at the head of the table and took a drag from his cigarette.

“Aye,” he replied.

Tig handed the last of the black-outs to Montez before walking by me and patting my shoulder. The table had been rearranged in order to accommodate me, and balance the seating chart. Chibs at the head, as always, Tig to his right, Hap to his left. Juice, Rane, and Montez seated next to Happy, respectively. Rat, T.O. and then me to Tig’s right.  
Chibs smiled at us and snuffed his cigarette into an ashtray.

“Everyone has their original patches, with the exception of T.O. Juice, and Cal. Juicey, I know you wanted to try for Secretary. We’ll vote this a later time, ‘kay?”

Juice nodded.

“Callie and T.O., you’ll notice your patches make up a hybrid Prospect cut. T.O., as a former M/C Prez, and Callie, with your skills, it would be unfair to give you the title of Prospect. However, you will still be on probation for a year and will not be able to hold an office until probation is over. Understood?”

T.O. and I nodded.

“Sounds fair to me,” T.O. said.

“With some of the changes I’ve made, though,” Chibs continued, “the two of ya won’t have to suffer through the role of a Prospect. Callie and Juice, both of you have a Scout flash. This is a new position that I came up with, inspired by Callie’s new color idea.”

My eyes widened and I sat straight up. The boys looked at me curiously, making me feel intimidated.

“We get caught a lot. Too much. I’ve decided to remedy that, and assign you two,” Chibs pointed to Juice and I, “as Scouts. Guards, almost. The both of ya, as a team, will be on the outside. Ridin’ ahead of tailin’ behind, or hidin’ out and swoopin’ in when somethin’ is compromised. Ya’ll be our eyes and ears.”

Juice’s eyes lit up.

“Not a bad idea,” he said.

“Ingenious, really,” Tig said jokingly.

“God knows we’ve needed it,” Rat agreed.

Chibs nodded.

“Sound good?” he asked.

“Hell yeah,” Juice replied.

Chibs’ eyes flashed over to me.

“Totally,” I replied.

Chibs smiled and stood from his chair.

“Today, Callie received her patches,” he announced as he walked over to me.

The guys began to holler and Tig yelled my name. Chibs walked behind me and put one hand on my back.

“This rose patch,” he said, picking the rose out of the others, “Is for you, and any future female member of the club. This rose symbolizes that you, darlin’, are a Sister of Anarchy.”

I stared at the patch between his fingers for what seems like minutes. May have only been seconds, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. This was a huge first for the M/C, and history was quickly changing. I would be expected to live up to the rose and the reaper and all they stood for. I was running with bigger dogs. I would have to prove I could keep up. I had to prove I was worth my shit, no matter how good my relationships with them were now. I could not let them down, and would not let Chibs regret this decision.

“Stand up, Callie girl,” Chibs said.

I stood and Chibs pushed my chair underneath the table. I faced him, and he took both of my hands, stared my straight in the eye, and smiled.

“We are your brothers, Callie, and you our sister. This club is your family now. Welcome,” he said.

I could not contain the smile on my face. Chibs hugged me tightly. The boys clapped and stood up, each one of them hugging me and welcoming me to the club. It had been a long time dream of mine to be part of something like this. Granted, it was with the VII, but it was a family of best friends—brothers. Being pushed away after Zero died killed that dream, but now I was given a second chance. I would make these men proud. I would make Zero proud.  
Tig was the last to hug me, and his hug lasted the longest.

“Welcome home, baby girl,” he said softly.

That made tears prick my eyes, but I swallowed the urge down. Not here.

“I know you’re gonna make us proud,” he said.

I pulled back to look up at him. Tig smiled and kissed my forehead.

“Or you’ll give us hell. I’m not sure,” he teased.

I smiled and he lightly shoved me.

“Alright. Sit down. Sit—“ Chibs was interrupted by his cell phone.

The rest of us settled down and resumed our seats. T.O. patted my back.

“You ever been in an M/C before?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Rolled with them, but never been an official member,” I replied.

He laughed.

“You’re in for one hell of a ride, girl,” he said.

I smiled.

“Jackie Boy,” Chibs said in surprise.

The entire table froze and everyone shot their looks over to the Prez. Tig backhanded Chibs’ shoulder.

“Speakerphone, man!” he hissed.

Chibs pulled the phone away from his ear and activated the speakerphone.

“Didn’t expect to hear from ya, brother,” Chibs said.

“Yeah, I know,” came the tired voice of Jackson Teller, former President of SAMCRO.

“Well, are ya all right? Is everythin’ okay?” Chibs asked worriedly.

Jax didn’t respond for a moment, but before Chibs could ask if he was still there, he spoke.

“How’s the club?” Jax asked.

Chibs sighed.

“Golden, brother. Everything’s good,” he replied.

Again, it took Jax a moment.

“Good. I need to tell you somethin’. I want you to relay it to the club,” he said.

Chibs’ eyes quickly darted between the crew.

“Sure,” he replied.

Jax took a deep breath before speaking.

“It’s Gemma,” he said.

I narrowed my eyes. Montez, who was sitting across from me, filled me in.

“Jax’s mother,” he whispered, “Murdered his old lady.”

My eyes widened. Shit!

“She was killed this morning in County,” Jax said.

The entire table froze, except for Tig. He stood from the table, pushed his curls back against his head and began to pace.

“Holy shit,” he murmured.

“Jesus Christ, Jackie,” Chibs replied, “I’m—I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jax replied in a hushed voice.

Chibs tapped his fingers against the table.

“Is there…is there anything ya would like us to do for ya, brother?” he asked.

“No,” Jax said quietly.

There was another moment of awkward silence.

“Chibs?” Jax asked.

“Yeah?”

“You keep that club golden for me, alright?” Jax asked.

Chibs bit his lip, heartbreak written across his face.

“Always,” he replied, “I love you, brother. We all do.”

Jax didn’t reply, and the line went dead. No one said a word until Juice broke the horrendous silence.

“Holy shit, bro,” he whispered.

Tig stood near the window, dead silent, his back to us.

“Okay,” Chibs said, “Hap, Juice, Quinn, and Montez, I want you four to go lock up TM. Then let’s all call it and go home.”

The club agreed. Chibs clapped a hand on the table and stood. The rest of us followed suit, save for Tig, who seemed glued in his place. I began to follow the boys out when Chibs stopped me.

“Just hold on for a sec, darlin’,” he said quietly.

I nodded and hung back, shutting the door after Montez as he brought up the rear. Chibs turned to Tig and approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“She was one of my best friends, Chibby,” he said.

“I know, Tiggy,” Chibs said quietly.

“And…I hate her for what she did, but I still love her, you know?”

Chibs nodded.

“She was a big part of our lives. But we gotta move on, okay?”

Tig nodded and broke his gaze away from the window.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“How about,” Chibs began, then glanced over at me, “We all go celebrate the induction of our newest member?”

Tig perked up at that.

“It’s on me. Whatever it is,” he said.

Chibs smiled.

“Call Venus. She can join us. Callie?”

I stood at attention.

“Whatever restaurant or bar ya want. Your choice,” he said.

I smiled and shrugged.

“You guys can pick,” I said, as I wasn’t entirely familiar with the Charming food scene.

“Ahh, none of that,” Chibs said reaching for me and throwing an arm around my shoulders.

“I know a place,” Tig said, “You’ll love it. Let’s go.”

I smiled and walked with Chibs.

“Before we head home, we can go look at some houses. Off the beaten path, but nice. Protected,” Chibs said.

I nodded. Tig walked out the door first. Chibs held the door for me, but before I could go through, he lightly grasped my chin, making me look at him.

“What?” I asked.

Chibs smiled.

“You’ve hardly stopped smiling. It’s good to see ya happy, Callie girl,” he said.

I smiled, embarrassed, my cheeks on fire. Chibs laughed and ushered me out the door.

“Get outta here, ya cheeky shite,” he said jokingly.

I laughed and ducked, avoiding a playful swat to the back of my head, and we caught up with Tig.

***

Tino Venza was sitting at the bar, on his third glass of beer, eyeing the blonde bartender he had been trying to flirt with. She was slender, around his height and maybe ten years younger than he was. Had to be. That didn’t stop him from looking, nor did it stop her from flirting back, leaning against the counter in a way where he could see right down her shirt. He was a sucker for blondes and boobs, and she was a sucker for Italian boys with tattoos. He was sure that as soon as she saw his motorcycle, her pants would be on the floor. His trip to north California would not go to waste.

“Can I get you another beer, hun?” the bartender asked.

Tino looked up and studied her face. Fake tan, winged eyeliner, sheer pink lipgloss. He was sure she looked nothing like she did now first thing in the morning. However, he didn’t plan on sticking around that long.

“Shot of Jack,” he said, pushing his empty mug towards her.

He gave her a wink—a cliche way to charm her. She was naive enough to blush over it.

“Sure thing,” she replied.

Tino watched her walk away and looked around the room. The restaurant was packed with people, and the bar was beginning to fill up. He sat silently, watching different people pass by as he was given his shot of Jack Daniels. He thanked the bartender. She sidled up against the counter to flirt, but her words never came as a few loud men entered. She looked up at them, ducked her head, and turned away. Tino glanced over his shoulder to see two men, one with dark, curly hair, enter, two women in tow.

“Never thought I’d see those two double-date,” the bartender said.

Tino looked back to the woman.

“You know them?” he asked.

She nodded.

“They own a porn studio. Their boss did this to me,” she said, pointing to the scars across her nose, “The boss’s mother, too.”

Tino grimaced.

“That’s a shame. Scumbags,” he said.

He honestly didn’t care where the scars came from—or her, for that matter.

“Porn studio, huh?” he asked.

She nodded.

“I used to be…an actress,” she said.

Tino smiled outwardly and vomited inwardly—not because she was an ex-pornstar, but because she seemed proud of it.

“Who are they?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes.

“Couple of assholes of SAMCRO,” she replied.

Tino swallowed thickly. That wasn’t a name he wanted to hear.

“What did you say your name was again?” he asked.

She smiled.

“Ima,” she replied.

Tino smiled. Across the bar, a large bald man lifted his mug into the air.

“Hey, darlin’! Can I get a refill?”

Ima looked from the man to Tino and smiled.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

Tino nodded and sipped his Jack. His eyes wandered over to the group. They were seated at a circular booth, their waitress taking their orders. He could not see the taller woman’s face, and could only see the side of the curly-headed man and the top of the shorter woman’s head, but he had a clear view of the one on the end. Tall, graying mustache and goatee, scarred all to hell. He wasn’t familiar with the face, but he knew those distinct scars could lead him in the right direction to identify him.  
When their waitress left, the shorter woman looked up, threw her head back, and burst out laughing at whatever the curly-haired man had said. That’s when he saw her face, recognizing her instantly.

“Son of a bitch,” he said to himself.

Quickly, he fished his cell phone out of his pocket. He had the number he needed on speed dial, and pressed the number 2 before holding the device to his ear. On the other end, friend and boss Shane Maddox answered.

“Yeah?” Shane answered.

“We got a problem,” Tino said.

“Fuck,” Shane replied, annoyed, “Is it the XMC?”

“Nah, man,” Tino replied, “Fucking SAMCRO.”

“Oh, goddammit, Tino! How the fuck did you get screwed up with them? They’re fucking dangerous! What are you thinking, bro? We’re in enough shit as it is!” Shane ranted.

“I’m not!” Tino replied, his voice skipping an octave.

“You’re out there to locate—“

“I found her, Shane. I’m looking right at her!”

Shane was silent for a moment.

“Are you shitting me right now?” he hissed.

“She’s not too far from where I’m sitting,” Tino replied.

“Well don’t let her fucking see you. She’ll blow your goddamn brains out! Where are you?”

“Charming. Callie fucking Shepherd is rolling with SAMCRO.”

“Shit!” Shane exclaimed, “Get the fuck out of there and get back home, now!”

Tino agreed and hung up, slipping out of the restaurant without paying or being detected, pleased that his goal was finally met, but disappointed he couldn’t get that slutty little pornstar back to his hotel room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave some love! =)


	12. Ready

_“I built this world for you, Callie. Everything I have is yours, babe. The money. The house. The cars. Everything…I love you.”_

_Zero’s voice reverberated through my head as I leaned against the front door. His voice multiplied, everything he had ever said to me overlapping until my head was roaring with the echo of a lost soul._

_“You’re my best friend, Callie. My best friend in the whole fucking world.”_

_I slid down the length of the door and looked up at the tall ceiling of the foyer—the mansion we were supposed to spend our lives in. Raise a family of humans and animals. To grow in. It was over now._   
_I came home late after a run for the club, delivering a certain piece of machinery to be passed off to our Las Vegas allies. I didn’t expect to find what I found when I returned home._   
_I found him slumped over the bed, his shoes muddy, clothes filthy. I tried waking him. Tried resuscitation. It was no use. Even as I threw his body into the floor and tried to wake him, I knew he was long gone. I screamed at him like a maniac, but I knew it was no use. I called the paramedics, then lifted Z’s heavy body onto the bed. I removed his ratty old tank top, dirty shoes and jeans, dressed him in his favorite purple t-shirt, his nicest jeans, and favorite pair of boots. I then cleaned his face, brushed his hair, and he was ready when the paramedics arrived. I never saw him again._   
_The sun was rising, and the first rays began to illuminate the taupe walls. I did not cry until now. Fat tears rolled freely down my cheeks. I sat in pitiful silence, and for the first time in years, I felt like a child again. Like a child lost in a large amusement park. I had lost my best friend. The very same kid who played with me at recess, protected me in high school, treated me like gold, and had given me everything. The same lanky teenager who I had spent two weeks with when my parents died. We shared a bed, and his generous, loving parents never cared. They knew better than to think we would do things. After calling everyone, and no one making an attempt to contact me, I realized, as I curled over myself on the black and white tile floor, that I was utterly alone._

_“Come back, Z,” I whispered._

_Red morning light appeared through the windows around the door behind me, illuminating the dark foyer. It was a new day. My first day on earth without the man I loved. I did not know a world without him until that moment, and all I wanted to do was die._

_“I love you, Callie…”_

_My world warped around me, and the red sunlight liquified across a pale, peachy canvas. Sharp pain emitted from the source of the flow, and a shiny piece of metal traveled through the stream, breaking more dams in its journey. The pain seared through my arms, grew in such intensity that I was sure my chest was collapsing._   
_My vision cleared for a brief moment as I slipped into the floor, propped between the toilet and the wall, red dripping down the porcelain and the shiny piece of metal falling to the floor. The pain was gone, and for the next few hours, I felt numb._

My eyes snapped open. I was shaking, not only with cold, but with fear and shame. I was clutching the fabric of my pillowcase. My covers had fallen to the floor. I looked around the room, the light pole outside casting a blue glow over the room. I released my hands and quickly sat up. My entire body was cold, and I felt this ripping feeling in my chest. I had not felt it since the night of the crash, and it scared me. It was a sensation that drove me to do things I knew Zero would hate me for. I had never intended for that, and had rid myself of my bad habits. Tonight, in a moment of weakness, my mind kicked on automatic.  
I stood up and left the bedroom in search of the bathroom door in the dark of the hallway. My dream, which was more of a waking recurring nightmare, flashed through my mind. A faded image of Zero’s frozen face. The cold of his hands and the tile floor. The warmth of the red.

_“Stop.”_

I jumped at the sound of the voice and looked around the hallway wildly. Everything was dark and quiet, except for the faint ticking of an old clock just inside the living room. It was not Chibs’ voice. I knew it was Zero’s. Whether he was here, I was sleepwalking, or perhaps just going insane, was a different story.  
But I stopped. I didn’t pursue an old, nasty habit. I had sworn off of it, and had been clean for years. Three years soon. I had promised myself I wouldn’t do it, and made the promise to Zero the last time I visited his grave with a bundle of purple flowers and a travel sized bottle of Jack.

“Okay, baby,” I whispered to nothing.

I backed away from the door and moved down the hall to the living room, where I took refuge on the couch, making myself comfortable among the cushions and watching late night adult cartoons at a barely audible volume level.

It had to have been an hour, if not more, but it felt like just minutes as I stared blankly at the TV, letting my mind shut off and get lost in a show about talking food and their superpowers. I was sitting with my back against the armrest, arms crossed over my stomach and knees pulled up, legs cast to the side so I could see the screen. I didn’t move, and my stillness must have caused me to doze when I felt the tentative touch of warmth against my cheek. I shuddered and my limbs came unraveled. When I looked at the TV again, a different cartoon was on.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s just me.”

I looked up to see Chibs behind me, and let out a shaky sigh of relief. Chibs leaned over and turned a lamp on, flooding the room with warm light.

“What are ya doin’ in here? Too cold in your room?” he asked.

He touched my cheeks and then felt my bare shoulders, only covered by the straps of my bra and black tank top. I usually never wore such during late fall and winter nights, but Chibs kept his home pleasantly warm, and with the thick blankets he had provided, I was always comfortable.

“You’re ice cold, darlin’. You’re not gettin’ sick, are ya?” he asked.

I shook my head and looked up at him. He blinked at me, his face relaxed, his eyes hard with worry. It was then I wanted to kick my own ass. No one had looked at me like that since I arrived in Charming. No one showed me any sort of compassion for six years. No one gave a shit, and if they had, they never made the effort to show it. The look on Chibs face was the look of someone cared. He truly, genuinely cared, and I was the reason for worry on his face at this ungodly hour. This man, who had been more than generous, and had given me a new lease on life, gave a shit, and only an hour or however long ago it was, I was about to ruin it all. A prayer was finally answered. I just didn’t know how to take it. It had been too long.  
Chibs took my chin between his fingers as he had at chapel and studied me. He knew how to read people—that much was obvious. I’d be a fool not to realize that, and an idiot to lie and tell him different.  
His concentration melted away when he got his answer.

“Another nightmare?” he asked, the eyebrow that had not been obstructed by his long hair falling in his face arching like the back of a scared cat.

I nodded. Chibs sighed and patted my shoulder.

“Sit up for me, darlin’,” he said.

I did as I was told and scooted to sit on the edge of the middle cushion. Chibs sat beside me, and to my surprise, held his arms out. I felt my chest knot up at the gesture—how familiar it was. How I had wanted anyone to have reached for me that night Z went home. I did not question it, and scooted against him. Chibs was warm, and the sudden change in temperature made me shiver. Chibs held me hard against him and pressed his face into my hair.

“How did you know?” I whispered.

Chibs reached for my hands and took both, wincing when he felt their temperature.

“I…sort of heard part of it,” he confessed.

I closed my eyes. Damn.

“I’m sorry,” I replied quietly.

I felt Chibs shake his head.

“Don’t,” he said.

I just nodded.

“I’m not a hopeless case, I swear,” I said.

Chibs sniffed in amusement and looked down at me.

“I never said ya were, Callie girl.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want you to think I am.”

“You’re in pain. That doesn’t make ya a hopeless case. If anything, it just means ya need someone there for ya.”

I nodded. Chibs held my jaw and stroked my cheek with the rough pad of his thumb.

“I’ll be right here whenever you need me. Ya hear me, Cal?”

I nodded as he kissed my forehead.

“Love ya,” he said.

He reached for my hand again and squeezed it. I let out a shaky breath tears immediately welling up in my eyes.

“Love you, too,” I whispered, that cursed word now out in the open.

Chibs shifted and let me curl up against him. We remained like that, neither of us sleeping, watching the end of the adult cartoons as the sun rose and the morning children’s cartoons began. Something…something different happened within those few hours. A bond was made. As we talked about the nightmare, and then switched onto the subject of Gemma Teller and her death, we found comfort. There was probably some old curse when friendships are created over tales of the dead, but spilling our guts and tears was therapy, and I would soon find it also made a powerful, powerful glue.

The sun lit up the field across the road, soft light reflecting up the hill and into the living room. Chibs shifted to relieve stiff and probably sleeping muscles, but made no move to get up.

“It’s mornin’, Callie girl,” he announced.

My eyes were closed and my head was upon his soft gray t-shirt. I opened my eyes to see light coming through. This light was not red, but a bright white. Happy Californian sun, like the warm light that welcomed me when I had my first nightmare at Tig’s place. I saw it as a sign that here there was light. I was meant to be here.  
I looked up at Chibs, still kicking myself. Looking at him…made me want to live.

“Morning,” I said, groggy from talking for hours and lack of sleep.

Chibs held me against him, curled around me and closed his eyes. I buried myself against him resting the side of my face in his chest, protected by the body of a man I could call my best friend. It sounded right in my head.

“Night,” he said gruffly.

I smiled.

“Night, Filip.”

Perhaps it was his body heat, or the changing in temperature outside, but finally, I was warm.

***

Shane Maddox, founder of The VII and long time President of the club, watched as his brother walked into his kitchen. He sat at the kitchen island, the Old Ladies off to the side serving drinks and chatting, and the remaining members circled around him. His Vice President L. Hanes. Long brown hair, combed backwards, his sides shaved. Brown eyes and soft features. A smile that could have any girl on their knees. Tattoos up and down his arms. A guy who knew how to break your neck in one single swipe.  
Tino, the club’s Sergeant at Arms, walked in in time to sit next to L. Shane smirked at Tino’s unnaturally disheveled appearance. Tino was always well-dressed and groomed. His oily black hair combed neatly to the side, his pale skin flawless and clean-shaven. His clothes fancy. When he entered with a nearly full beard, his hair falling, wearing a navy blue hoodie and dirty jeans, Shane almost burst out laughing. He knew he would see the day.

“Took you long enough,” Jojo Christmas, who sat to Shane’s right spoke.

Tino rolled his eyes.

“Fuck you,” he said, obviously tired.

L smiled at Tino and gave him a hug. Their newest Prospect, RJ Richards, sat quiet and nervous next to Jojo. Shane cast a glance over his table. The spiky haired blonde Jojo reaching across the table to shake Tino’s hand. Mousy little RJ looking faint. L and Tino taking the piss out of each other. Tino’s Old Lady kissing his cheek before leaving with the other girls. It was then Shane called the meeting to order.

“Alright,” he said.

The crew looked to their President, now the tallest of the five, large muscular arms, shaved head, handsome face. Tattooed arms like the rest.

“I got a call from Tino last night. Apparently, he’s found her. Correct?” Shane asked.

Tino nodded.

“Okay, quick question,” Jojo interrupted.

L and Shane shot Jojo a look. Jojo cowered, but still spoke.

“Why the sudden interest in Z’s Old Lady? I thought we agreed to keep her out?” he asked.

“Because, dumbass,” L spat, “Think for a fucking second!”

Jojo hunched his shoulders up, feeling like he was being punished. It wasn’t his fault they didn’t always tell him everything.

“What reasons does Cal have to bail like that? Take off so suddenly?” Shane inquired.

Jojo was still confused.

“If she was going to leave, she would have done it after Z died,” Tino explained.

Jojo nodded, starting to understand.

“So, what? You think she knows something?” he asked.

“That’s exactly what we think,” L said.

“She definitely knows something,” Tino said.

Shane’s focus moved to his Sergeant at Arms.

“Did you find out any information?” he asked.

Tino shook his head.

“Just spotted her having dinner with a couple of guys from SAMCRO,” he replied.

L groaned and put his head in his hands.

“That cunning little…”

“Cunt,” Shane finished for him.

“You think she’s rolling with them?” Jojo asked Shane.

Shane ignored him for a moment.

“Who was she with? The whole crew?” he asked.

Tino shook his head.

“According to the whore bartender I talked to, it was just two of them. One with his Old Lady. Curly hair,” he explained.

“The guy or his girl?” Shane asked.

“Him. I mean, her hair was wavy, but this guy was straight up Gene Wilder,” he replied.

Shane nodded. L smiled at that.

“What about the other guy?” Shane asked.

Tino gestured to his face.

“Joker face. Some bastard cut him from ear to ear, looked like,” he replied.

Shane’s face fell, and an awkward silence fell across the table.

“That’s the Scot. He’s their President,” he replied.

Tino gritted his teeth.

“Shit!” he hissed.

“Goddammit!” L barked.

“The Tellers don’t run that show anymore?” Jojo asked.

Shane shook his head.

“Fuck. I was going to say, if it was Jax Teller, we could foil them without a problem,” he said.

“Yeah, Teller was an idiot,” Tino agreed.

“Yeah, but this new one isn’t. It’s going to be a lot harder to flip that shit,” Shane said.

“What the fuck is Callie running to SAMCRO for?” L asked, “You think she knows something?”

Shane nodded.

“That’s exactly what I think. I think that little bitch got some intel from someone and she’s seeking the strongest M/C she can find. If she knows anything at all, we’re dead. You wanna talk about smart? Goddamn, man! Best assassin we ever had.”

“She’ll take all of us out with the snap of her fingers, bro,” Tino said worriedly.

“Unless she gets sloppy,” L said.

The table grew silent and they watched the VP curiously. Shane furrowed his eyebrows.

“How so?” he asked.

L tapped his fingers against the table.

“If she’s crying to SAMCRO over what we think she knows, she’ll fuck up. It’s personal shit. She can’t handle it.”

Shane and Tino nodded in agreement.

“Why the fuck would an M/C like SAMCRO care? She’d have to have some kind of leverage,” Jojo said.

Tino’s eyes widened.

“Oh fuck!” he breathed out.

He met the eyes of the his worried brothers.

“Business,” he said, “She still owns Zero’s shit! What if she’s agreed to pipeline that shit north? In exchange for vengeance?”

L’s eyes widened and he shot Shane a frightened look.

“I thought we had a cork on that?” he asked, his voice shooting an octave higher.

Shane slowly shook his head. L flopped backwards in his chair.

“Goddammit, Shane!” he shouted to the ceiling.

“Bro, SAMCRO gets that shit and we’re broke,” Jojo said to Shane.

“Why didn’t we go get that shit when Z died?” L snapped.

“Because I never thought Callie would turn rat, you dumb fuck!” Shane growled.

Tino placed his hands on the table, trying to calm the tension.

“We don’t know any of that to be true. We just know that Callie is on a mission, and she’s flirting with a deadly crowd,” he said.

“Well, you know…” L trailed off.

“Enough!” Shane said, then looked to Tino, “Say she’s found out intel. Someone within our circle ratted to her. That is her only motive. If all of this is true, we have to move quickly.”

The guys nodded.

“Tino, I want you to ask around. Smoke out the rat,” he continued, then cast a sly smile at RJ, “RJ can go retrieve Callie from SAMCRO.”

RJ paled.

“Me?” he asked.

“You know where Charming is?” Tino asked.

RJ quickly nodded.

“‘Kay. Hunt for her bike. Black Suzuki. Sports bike. Probably has a zero painted on it somewhere. She always wore his mark on everything. Look for it. SAMCRO owns part of an escort service called Diosa. I checked it out. Start there. They also have a porn studio. Find it. You find those, you’ll find the M/C, and then Callie. Short girl. Short black hair. Sharp shooter, so don’t get within her sights. You got me?” Tino asked.

RJ nodded.

“Take a few of the Prospects with you. You do this, and you’re in, brother,” Shane said.

RJ agreed. Tino waved him off.

“Get on it,” he ordered.

RJ nodded and quickly shot out of the Maddox house as fast as he could. Shane gritted his teeth.

“We already sent Santiago after her. Tino, did you ever get a trace of him?” Shane asked.

Tino shook his head.

“Thought he may have stopped to get some pussy. That’s why I was checking out this Diosa place. Come to find out if was owned by a bunch of fucking Mayans and SAMCRO. Left that shit alone. Didn’t think Callie would be a part of it. Tracked him. His footprints ended before Charming. Someone picked him off. Could have been anyone.”

“And he showed such promise,” L said, “Finally one Prospect I thought would live.”

“Except for those pussies Z always pushed to save,” Jojo said, lighting a cigarette.

“Meh, that didn’t last,” Shane said.

L cast a glance over his shoulder in the direction of the hallway RJ had exited through.

“Let’s hope this one makes it through,” he said.

Shane snorted.

“He’s gonna die.”

L just laughed.

***

“It’s been a week, baby girl. Let’s go,” Tig said.

He pushed my bike out of the storage area behind Redwoody and pushed the kickstand down. He then patted the leather seat and smiled.

“Come on, sweetheart. It’s not gonna bite,” he coaxed.

I crossed my arms over my chest and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, it doesn’t?” I challenged.

Tig looked down at the bike apprehensively.

“It may bite me. I don’t know. I’m not experienced with anything that moves over 90,” he said.

I smiled at that.

“What’s this thing top out at?”

“Around 160,” I replied.

Tig blew his cheeks out and put his hands on his hips.

“Holy shit, Cal. It would bite me,” he said.

I smiled. Tig clapped his hands together.

“Come, ya little speed demon. Let’s do this. You got this.”

I sighed and approached the bike, slipping my helmet on as I walked. Tig moved to the front of the bike to hold the handlebars as I sat down. It was unnecessary, but he had been chomping at the bit all week to get me back on.

“Saddle up, Cowgirl,” he said.

I smiled and rolled my eyes.

“Call me that again and see what happens,” I challenged.

Tig smirked.

“Like what?” he asked.

I placed my hands on the bars and returned his smirk.

“Why don’t you climb on and I’ll show ya. Tigger,” I teased.

Tig let go of the bike and shook his head.

“Hell no! Hell no! This is all you, baby girl. I ain’t touchin’ that thing!”

I laughed and looked down at the bike. That’s when my heart rate began to pick up. It wasn’t nearly as intense as the last time, but it was enough to make me wonder if I was really ready. Tig noticed my apprehension, and reached over to put his hands on mine.

“I know you got this. Start it up,” he said, his tone now softer.

I nodded, and started the engine. The engine turned without a problem, and for the first time in weeks, the bike purred to life. Tig looked down at me in surprise.

“Wow. I thought it’d be a lot louder than that. Sounds great, though,” he said.

“That’s why they call it a stealth bike. Black out everything, keep it quiet,” I replied.

Tig smiled.

“It’s perfect, little Scout. I’m scared to ask how much it was. If it’s as fast and quiet as you say it is, we need to grab one for Juice,” he said.

I laughed.

“It’s high. I got a discount, though,” I said.

Tig eyed me, his clear blue eyes accusing, but playful.

“Five finger?” he asked.

I kicked up the stand and balanced the machine between my legs.

“Perks of having a loving and finically stable fiancé,” I replied.

Tig smiled.

“Splurged, did ya?” he asked.

I shook my head. What I had left from Zero was kept, the only heavy cash being handed out was the balance from trading in my Harley.

“Treated,” I corrected.

Tig smiled warmly and patted my shoulder.

“Why don’t you circle around? Get yourself reacquainted with your steed,” he said.

I nodded and put the bike in gear. Tig walked backwards, out of the way as I cautiously pulled forward. My panic—all those residual feelings from that night began to melt away, as if it had never happened. The bike purred, and I had a sudden craving to get out on the highway and gun it. Tig followed, observing, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You got it, baby. You never lost it,” he said.

I smiled shyly and pulled up to him.

“Why don’t we hit the road? I know a place we can go where you can let loose. Shake off the rust,” he suggested.

I nodded.

“I’ll follow you,” I agreed.

Tig grinned and gently nudged my shoulder.

“Wait ’til Chibby sees you!” he teased.

I rolled my eyes and bit my lip. I remembered what he had said to me in the truck. Had he really been teasing? At this moment, I really hoped so.  
Tig’s Harley roared to life, drowning out the soft hum of my Suzuki. His clipped on his helmet, then gestured for me with a tilt of his head. I pulled my face shield down and followed him out to the road.  
Tig led me through Charming, taking me down the slow streets that led through downtown. Neither of us were wearing colors, but parents still pulled their kids to the side and cars steered clear.  
Tig turned down an older street and I followed him up a hill and into an abandoned parking lot. A sign, broken neon and a font reminiscent of the 1970s spelled out “Charming Motorsports Park,” a few letters either broken or missing. The parking lot was cracked, weeds growing up everywhere and trashed collected against the curb. Tig stopped in front of the decrepit structure that held the ticket booth and seating. I pulled up beside him and idled. He smiled at me, then gestured to the structure.

“You good?” he asked.

I nodded. Tig smiled.

“The parking lot is a mess, but the track is in a lot better shape. We can let loose on it,” he said over the noise of the bikes.

I nodded.

“We’re not going to get in trouble for trespassing?” I asked.

Tig let out a laugh.

“Sweetheart, this town is on Sons of Anarchy’s payroll. Besides, we ain’t harming nothin’,” he said.

I smiled. Tig revved his engine and waved for me to follow. I put my bike in gear and followed him through a breezeway that led to a walkway, which led to the track. The place was in bad shape. Broken seats, trash and scattered glass. The green was a stock car graveyard, and lights and signs were dirty and broken. However, from what I could see as I pulled out onto the track, there were hardly any cracks or holes to speak of.  
Tig parked his bike at the side of the track and dismounted. I watched him curiously as he approached me.

“Take it easy on the first lap. I haven’t been out here in a long time, so I don’t know how the track is. Be careful,” he warned.

I nodded and revved my engine before pulling out and scouting out the track. I pushed the bike to about 35 miles per hour as I explored. The track was not long like some sort of professional racing track, but it was enough to stretch my legs and put the bike through its paces.  
When I completed the tracks, I counted no holes and only a handful of cracks. All harmless. So, when I crossed the finish line, I pushed the speed. At 60, I felt my adrenaline begin to pump, pushing my farther. At 90, I forgot the world around me. When I pushed past that, I remembered why I loved riding, why I loved being around motorcycles and bikers, why I ever wanted to be a part of a club, and why I was still here. This was my world. The wind hitting my face, the shrill sound of a speeding bike. Nothing could bring me out of it. The only thing that had ever penetrated the peaceful noise was Zero’s laugh. As I rounded the turn, I imagined something a little different. I imagined a bunch of men in blacked-out reapers, Juice and I protecting them as we drove through the Californian countryside, a dream finally coming true. In that moment of daydreaming, all fear and pain was gone. All that existed was bliss.

***

Tig stared in awe at the little black rocket whizzing around the oval. He could not believe how she handled the monster beneath her at the speed she was racing at. She had found her place in the world again, and Tig didn’t have to see her face to know she was happy. He had seen her in severe physical and emotional pain. He had seen all of his club in pain. Fighting sadness. Dealing with loss. He knew only one solution for his brothers, and that was a ride. No matter what kind of shit they were going through, none of that passed through their minds as they sped down the highway. It was where they were meant to be, and he could see it clear as day that their little sister was no different. Tig had seen only a few truly beautiful things in his lifetime. His daughters’ smiles. His girlfriend’s love. Jax’s boys. Seeing his rescued pitbull healthy again. He could even consider his relationship with his brothers a beautiful thing, but seeing Callie, who he’d adopt in a heartbeat if he could, find her happy place again, knowing what she’s been through, silenced the noise in his mind. He was proud of her, and quickly called Chibs.

“Yeah?” Chibs asked when he answered.

“You gotta come see this, man. This is incredible,” he said.

“What is it? Where are ya, brother?” Chibs asked.

“The old race track. Just get out here. Bring Juice with you,” he replied.

Chibs didn’t question it, and agreed before hanging up. For the next 45 minutes, Tig watched Callie’s confidence levels boost until she was performing small tricks at high speeds. Drifting, using no hands, pushing herself. Tig couldn’t help but smile.  
Chibs and Juice arrived at the Motorsports Park and parked their bikes outside of the breezeway. The two worriedly strode through the breezeway in search of Tig, Chibs more worried than Juice. The younger man had been confused by Chibs’ sudden rush to get to the park, and as he followed the speeding President through downtown Charming, he imagined of all the possible and impossible scenarios they would meet when they arrived. He could not imagine what was going on, but by the fear on the older man’s face, he knew it could not be good. He didn’t know that Chibs was overreacting.  
Chibs had no idea what came over him when Tig asked him to come to the track. He thought only the worst. He blamed it on being a natural pessimist, but he knew what Tig had planned for Callie, and every time he brought it up, Callie went from talkative to dead silent, and took an hour or so to come back around. It scared her, and Chibs knew she was scared. He really wanted to be the one to help her get back on the bike, but Tig was currently the only one available, and he was a little bit better at the encouragement thing than he was. He had no doubt that Tig would be able to help, but when the call came through, he panicked. It did not occur to him that Tig would never had asked for Juice if something bad had happened.

“Ya hear that?” Juice asked as they walked towards the direction of the track.

There were a million things running through the President’s mind. So many horrible endings playing out at once, inhibiting his ability to hear the world around him. He and Juice stopped to listen, hearing the wind carry the familiar sound of a motorcycle. Chibs tapped Juice’s arm and they jogged out to the walkway. On the track, Chibs saw the black blur, and relief washed over him. Juice grabbed his arm and pointed to the VP keeping a watchful eye on the Scout.  
Chibs shot down the walkway, Juice hot on his heels. Tig looked up to see his brothers approaching him, noticing how flushed Chibs’ cheeks were.

“Holy shit,” he and Juice said in unison.

“Told you,” Tig said smugly.

“How did ya do it?” Juice asked.

Tig shrugged.

“Meh. A little coaxing and self-esteem was all she needed. She knows what she’s doing,” he replied.

“I can see that,” Chibs said, his voice deadpan as he watched her speed around the track.

Tig smirked at his brother.

“She’s a wicked little speed demon, Chibby,” he said, low enough so Juice could not catch wind.

He grinned when he saw Chibs’ cheeks flush. A half-drunken confession to his VP had caused nonstop teasing. Tig found endless ways to get a rise out of Chibs’ fantasy, and he loved every second of it. Chibs wished he had never said a word. He had already said too much to Callie in the truck. Tig knowing what he thought was the last thing he needed. However, it made no difference to Tig. He saw it all. Chibs’ face lighting up. The tinge of pink on Callie’s cheeks. Venus had thought it was cute. It made Tig happy and nauseous all at once.

“She’s in full swing, man. Ready to ride with us. And Juice, we’re getting ya one of those damn bikes. They ride quiet the slower they go. Black as night. Perfect Scout bike,” he said.

Juice’s eyes lit up, and the 34 year old became a 14 year old at Christmas all over again.

“Really?” he asked.

“Aye,” Chibs said, not being able to look away from Callie, “Tiggy’s right. We’ll find ya good deal.”

Juice gave the older men a boyish smile. Chibs looked down at him and smiled.

“Go flag her in, Juicey,” he said, rubbing the back of the boy’s head affectionately.

Juice happily obeyed, jogging down the walkway and up the fence against the track, waving Callie down with one of his leather gloves. Chibs watched as she saw him and geared the bike down.

“I’m really proud of her,” Tig said to Chibs.

Chibs nodded.

“Me too,” he said softly.

When Callie pulled over, and greeted Juice, Chibs went down to talk to her. Tig stayed, smiling to himself.

***

“That was amazing! How fast were you going?” Juice asked excitedly as he hugged me.

I shrugged.

“Wasn’t really paying attention,” I replied.

Juice smiled.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back on,” he said.

I smiled and nodded.

“Yeah,” I said quietly, “Me, too.”

Chibs appeared behind Juice, and Juice moved to the side. Chibs didn’t say anything, and really didn’t have to. As soon as I was within arms reach, I was pulled hard into a hug. I put my arms tightly around him and felt his hand cradle the back of my head.

“Proud of ya, love,” he said quietly.

My mouth was pressed into the leather covering his shoulder, and I smiled into it.

“Thank-you,” I murmured.

Chibs let go of me and tossed an arm around my shoulder.

“You’ll be able to ride with us now,” Juice said, eyes and face lit up like he had been awarded a million dollars.

“Yeah, and not a moment too soon,” Tig said, jogging down to us with his cell phone in his hand, “That was Álvarez. Said he has footage of some punks stealing shit from Diosa.”

And there went the happiness of the celebration.

“Shit,” Chibs growled.

“Gang-related?” Juice asked.

Tig shrugged.

“Wasn’t totally sure. Whoever they were, they were brown,” he replied.

Chibs nodded.

“No doubt it’s Mayan business,” he said.

“Gotta protect our girls, though,” Tig said softly.

Chibs nodded.

“I know. ‘Kay. Juice, you and Callie head up there. Scout it out. Lay low. When we arrive, keep to the shadows. Stay safe,” he said.

Juice and I nodded.

“I’ll round up the guys,” Tig said.

Juice tapped my shoulder.

“I’ll meet ya in the parking lot,” he said.

I nodded, and he and Tig moved to leave. Chibs turned to me.

“You got this, Callie girl?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Absolutely,” I replied.

Chibs nodded and kissed my cheek. We then parted, and I climbed back on my bike, following Tig back up the walkway. To my surprise, and maybe it was my adrenaline, but I was not in the least bit nervous about this. I had been on runs like this before, but I did not feel scared.

I felt ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you guys think so far!
> 
> If there is any confusion, please remember that the story went through a facelift, and some locations and characters have been changed to satisfy the finale of SOA. Trying to keep it as close to the original story line as possible.


	13. Big Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cautionary Trigger Warning.

“I gotta admit, I’ve never been good at being a look-out,” Juice said.

We had parked in the alley next door to Diosa Norte, keeping our bikes hidden and separated from the few Mayan bikes behind the building. Juice pulled up his hood and put his hands in the front pockets of his new blacked-out cut. I was not wearing a cut, but instead, with Chibs’ help, had my flashes stitched onto my leather jacket. Blacked-out, and in the dim light, we looked like we were not wearing colors at all.  
I smiled at Juice as I hung my helmet on the handlebars of my bike.

“It’s not hard, Juice,” I replied.

Juice snorted.

“That’s what you said about having good aim,” he said.

I smirked.

“And have you been practicing, Juicey boy?” I asked.

The guilty smile on his face was the only answer I needed. I laughed and gave his shoulder a playful punch. We began to walk down the alley to an intersection, remaining in the safety of the shadows.

“How do you wanna do this, Cal?” he asked.

I observed our surroundings, noting the only exit and lack of windows on Diosa.

“If it is an internal beef, there probably is no right place to be. They could appear any time now, but if punks just stealing shit for the hell of it, and they’re smart, they’ll appear when it’s completely dark. They could be hiding around here now, just waiting for everyone to leave.”

Juice nodded in agreement.

“We can’t be on the ground until the rest of the club arrives,” I continued.

I looked up to the rooftops of the buildings.

“We’ll need a bird’s eye view. Why don’t you slip across the street? See if you can get on the room of the building over there? I’ll take the building behind Diosa.”

Juice nodded, but then gritted his teeth.

“You sure we should be separated?” he asked.

I gestured to the building across the street.

“You’ll have a good view of the front and sides. From this rooftop, I can cover the back alleys,” I replied.

Juice nodded.

“I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone, though,” he said.

I shook my head.

“I’ll be fine. We just have to lay low until the guys get here. You got your phone?” I asked.

Juice nodded.

“Keep it close. Let’s go,” I whispered.

Juice agreed, and ran back down the alley to find a way to slip across the street. I moved around the corner and found a fire escape. I was able to climb it and make it to the top of the three story building. From there, I could see everything, and I ducked down in a corner where I could not be seen, huddling down on the cold concrete with my gun in my lap. It was where I stayed for the next three hours.  
The hours were quiet and cold. A slow stream of cars moved up and down the streets, and a bike or car would occasionally arrive or leave Diosa, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. I didn’t move from my perch, and even though I was freezing from the wind and lack of movement, and hungry, I thanked God I didn’t have to pee in that time. However, it felt like my stomach was digesting itself, and for a brief moment, I hoped Juice was paying attention because I was too distracted by the want to puke. A few minutes later, it was over, but I learned a quick lesson. Never stakeout hungry.  
Ten o’ clock was closing time for Diosa. The bikes left with the girls and their cars. Tig had informed me earlier that some girls might come in late, as they were doing outside appointments, and some liked to come back, exchange their things, and then head home. At this hour, with the only lights being orange streetlamps and the one lightbulb above the backdoor, illuminating the staircase, I hoped those rules were changed. This was not safe—especially when they were having break-ins.  
Juice called me just as the last bikes left, checking up on me.

“You good?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” I replied, talking into my shoulder to block out wind interference, “You?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said, his voice sounding a bit hoarse from the wind and the cold.

I hoped neither of us got sick after this.

“Nothing so far?” I asked.

“Everything’s been clear,” he replied.

“‘Kay. Let me know if anything changes.”

“Roger that,” he replied.

I hung up and slipped my cell phone back into my pocket. About five minutes later, it vibrated again. My heart rate picked up as I fumbled for it. This time, it wasn’t Juice, but Chibs. I answered and ducked down from the wind.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey. Are we clear?” he asked.

“Yeah. So far, nothing. Everyone has closed up and left for the night. If there’s going to be any movement, I expect it to happen soon. We’re just waiting,” I replied.

“‘Kay. You both are okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Tig’s callin’ Juice to relay this message. We’re gonna come in. Park a few blocks away. Walk to Diosa, so don’t shoot us,” he replied.

I smiled.

“Got it.”

“Where are ya at?” he asked.

I looked across Diosa and the street to the building Juice was perched on.

“Just being your eyes in the sky,” I replied.

I heard Chibs sniff.

“Aye. Ya may not be much use up high if there isn’t any movement within the next hour. You and Juice come down after we scope the inside, alright?”

“‘Kay,” I replied quietly.

“Rat and Montez are comin’ in first. Call me if you spot brown,” he said.

“Got it.”

The line went dead. I replaced my phone and moved onto my knees. I spotted Rat’s lanky form moving down the back alley, his messy hair briefly illuminated by a light on the back of the building next door. I moved across the roof of the building to the corner where Rat was coming in, making sure no one was lurking where he couldn’t see. Fortunately, there was nothing as T.O. slipped in from the other side. Chibs and Tig came in through the back, and Happy and Rane came around the front with Montez. I moved back to my original position above the door and watched the crew enter, guns at the ready. Once inside, things remained quiet.  
About half an hour passed with no movement from inside or out, until my phone vibrated again.

“Yeah?” I answered.

“Rat’s comin’ out to get ya. It’s all clear down here,” Chibs voice came through.

“Be right down.”

As soon as I hung up, Rat came through the back door, searching the skies for me. I ducked back over to the fire escape and climbed down. Rat was on the ground and took my sides as I hopped down.

“You okay, Cal?” he asked.

I smiled at him and nodded. Rat smiled and waved me over.

“Come on. It’s warm inside,” he said.

I nodded and followed him back inside Diosa.

Inside was indeed warm. We found the guys gathered in the front lobby, Happy towing Juice in through the front door. Tig approached me first.

“You okay. You’re cheeks are beet red, baby girl,” he said.

I shrugged.

“Just cold,” I replied.

Tig sighed and hugged me.

“We all clear?” Juice asked, “‘Cause I gotta piss like a fucking horse!”

“Yeah, it’s clear. Go piss,” Chibs said.

Juice nodded and ducked down the hallway. Chibs clapped a hand on my shoulder.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asked quietly.

I nodded. Chibs patted my back.

“What now, boss?” Happy asked.

Chibs looked around trying to decide what to do next.

“Quinn, Montez. One of ya take the front door. The other, the back. Rat, go find the tapes. Tonight may not be the night they decide to strike again, but I want to have an idea of what these fuckers look like.”

Rat nodded.

“Where’s the tapes?” he asked.

Juice reemerged from the hallway.

“Back room behind the bar,” he said to Rat, “I’ll go with you.”

Rat nodded and the two walked out of the room. Chibs moved behind me and gripped my shoulders.

“If I weren’t such a stupid bastard, I would have checked to make sure it was safe to be out in this weather,” he said.

I shrugged. I really didn’t see the big deal. I had been fighting a round of teeth chattering in the last hour, but at least I wasn’t burning up.

“It’s no big deal. It’s just cold,” I replied.

Chibs moved his head into my field of vision, that eyebrow shooting straight up his forehead as he eyed me.

“And if ya get a cold?” he questioned.

I smirked.

“Then I hope you can make chicken soup as well as you make pizza,” I teased.

Chibs cracked a smile and messed my disheveled hair all to hell.

“Hey, boss!” Rane called from the front.

Chibs’ amusement fell away as he went rigid. Rane was looking out the curtains.

“Got somethin’,” he said.

Chibs moved towards the taller man to investigate. Tig snapped his fingers at me.

“Get behind that bar,” he hissed.

I nodded and ducked behind the bar, pulling my gun out and readying it.

“Rat! Juice!” Happy growled out.

Rat shot out of the hall. Juice moved to the corner of the back wall of the bar, his gun at the ready.

“I don’t see nothin’,” I heard Chibs speak.

“I’ll sneak out back with Montez,” T.O. whispered.

I peered over the top of the bar to see Chibs nod and T.O. slip into the hall. All was quiet for a moment, everyone as still as could be. I looked around, trying to see if there was a place that would allow me a better spot to protect these guys, but the room was a large, open space, and the bar was my only hiding place.

“I hear voices,” Tig whispered.

Chibs slid into the corner, eyes searching between the curtains.

“We got company,” he whispered.

Rane moved to the side of the door, and Happy ducked behind a desk. Rat, being so skinny, was able to conceal himself behind a pillar. Tig prowled down low to a couch, head tilted to listen. Juice was the only one with a clear vision through the nearest window, his eyes were locked on.

“Guys,” he whispered.

Before anyone could ask, Tig’s scream changed the intense silence into a frenzy of noise.

“SHIT! GET DOWN!” he screamed.

Something flew through a window. I didn’t see much, as Juice was suddenly on top of me, his body pinning me to the floor below. I heard an explosion, then unfamiliar voices among gunshots from outside. There was cursing and gunshots before I heard T.O. call out in victory.

“Chibs! We got ‘em!” he called.

At this, Juice raised up off of me.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded. His hands were tightly pinned to my wrists, the force of him jumping me pushing the sleeves of my jacket down.

“Yeah, you?” I asked.

Juice nodded.

“Yeah, I think so,” he replied.

He moved to his knees and suddenly froze. I tried to sit up when I realize his hands still hand an iron grip on me. I looked to him in confusion, and that’s when I saw it. His focus right on the skin of my arms. He stared at them for a moment, neither of us saying a word. He then let go of me, and I knew he had seen it. He didn’t say a word, but I knew he had seen it. His eyes then locked on mine, and a pained look swept across his face.

“Let me help you up,” he said quietly.

He took my arms and helped me to my feet. I pushed my sleeves down and dusted myself off.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

We looked around to see one of the windows on the side of the building blown out, trash and broken piece of furniture scattered everywhere, but no real damage to the building.

“Let’s go,” Juice said.

He started off, and I followed him through the broken window and into the alley where the guys had circled three young boys, who couldn’t have been any older than 17.

“I said, what are ya doin’ here?” Chibs growled at the middle one, who seemed to be the leader of the whole thing.

“What are you gonna do? Tell on us?” the one beside the leader snapped.

Tig rushed him and put a gun to his head.

“Tig, Jesus Christ. Put that down,” Chibs said.

The kid went from macho to pussy in half a second, and looked ready to piss his pants.

“You the little shits that have been causing so much trouble around here? You trying to sneak a peak at off limits pussy? Let me tell ya something. THEY’RE CLOSED, YOU STUPID LITTLE PRICKS!” Tig barked.

“Why pay?” the one on the other side of the leader asked, “We just came here for booze.”

I almost laughed at that. These were no gang kids. No real harm. I mean, hell. Zero, his friends and I used to steal beer all the time.

“Got plenty of open pussy at school,” the leader said, “Besides, don’t want nothing your old asses are tapping, anyway.”

Happy hauled off and smacked the kid across the head. Chibs loomed over the leader dangerously.

“You three get outta here, and I don’t ever want to see your faces again. Ya hear me?” he said lowly.

The little shit in the middle smirked.

“What are you gonna do old man? Bend me over your knee and beat my ass with a paddle?”

Something flipped inside of me, something vicious that made me want to rip the kid’s throat out. Before I knew it, I was in between Chibs and the kid, gun out. It took me only a few seconds to flip the kid around, shove him against the brick wall of the building next door, and press the end of my gun into him. I bent his arm around at a painful angle and he screamed and squirmed under my grip.

“How about I fill your ass with bullets?” I hissed.

“Get off of me!” he whined.

“Callie, let off of him,” Chibs ordered.

I backed up, but took my chance to make the kid pay for how he spoke to Chibs. I firmly grasped the back of the kid’s hair, and shoved him forward as hard as I could, smashing his face into the brick. Blood surfaced, the kid screamed, and was left with a broken nose.

“Yeah!” Tig shouted.

I let go of the kid and he collapsed in a heap in the dirt. I turned away and returned to the crew.

“I had ‘em, Cal. Ya didn’t have to bust his face up,” Chibs said, his tone light.

I looked up to see him fighting back a laugh.

“Yeah, well he needed to learn some fucking respect,” I said.

Chibs smiled.

“Showin’ off, are ya?” he asked.

I shrugged. Chibs patted my back.

“Hap. There’s a car down the block. Their car. Get the number off the plate,” he said.

“Right away, boss,” Happy said, then jogged out of the alley.

“What? Wait!” the kid to the right shouted.

Chibs raised an eyebrow at him.

“What? Don’t want mommy to find out?” Tig asked teasingly.

“It’s not ours,” the kid to the left said.

Chibs snorted.

“Stolen car? Runnin’ ‘round stealin’ booze? Defacin’ private property?” he asked, hands behind his back as he strolled up to the kids, “Your in a world of trouble, boys.”

The kids still standing looked ready to either faint or piss themselves.

Happy returned with the numbers.

“Got ‘em,” he said.

Chibs nodded, then looked to the frightened kids.

“Ya have 30 seconds, or I’ll have my girl break more bones,” he said darkly.

I felt my breath catch. I knew that meant absolutely nothing, but a burst of heat spread through my chest when he said that.  
The boys nodded, then helped their friend and took off running as fast as they could. Chibs watched them run with his hands on his hips.

“Juice, call in an anonymous tip to the cops. Let them know three idiot teenagers are driving dangerously and you’re scared shitless. Tig, you update Álvarez. The rest of us, let find a way to board up this window.”

We all nodded and followed Chibs back through the window. Happy moved ahead of us and picked up the thing that had blown up.

“Homemade fireworks,” he said.

Chibs nodded.

“Fucking punks. Let’s get this place cleaned up. Head home,” he said.

The crew agreed and we go to work. T.O. and Rane found some wooden panels in a dumpster, and the nailed the panels to the wall to cover the hole. I helped with the last of the clean up while Chibs and Tig spoke to Álvarez when he arrived. He was irritated, but happy we found the kids who were stealing shit. With a promise of getting better locks and glass for the windows, we called it a night, and I followed Chibs home.

“I’m fuckin’ starvin’. You hungry, Cal?” Chibs asked as he hung his cut on the hook by the door.

“Hell yes,” I replied, shrugging my jacket off.

Chibs gestured for me to follow him into the kitchen. I set my jacket on the table while Chibs went straight to the liquor cabinet, selecting a bottle of whiskey.

“I really am proud of ya, sweetheart. Ya did a fantastic job back there,” he said.

He picked a couple of clean shot glasses from the drainer beside the sink and poured us both shots. He then approached me and handed me one. I wasn’t a drinker, but when you rolled with the boys in The VII, you quickly learned.

“Did I pass the test?” I asked.

Chibs smiled warmly.

“Ya passed it a long time ago, darlin’,” he replied.

I smiled. Chibs clinked his glass against mine and together we took our drinks. The burn hit me and took my breath away. I had never had anything so strong in my life, and it took all of my energy not to choke. Chibs laughed at me.

“Ah! But not that one!” he laughed.

I handed the glass back and burst into a coughing fit. Chibs clapped a hand on my bike.

“Oh, suck it up, Callie girl. Come on. Let’s eat and go to bed. We got church in the mornin’,” he said.

I coughed and nodded, Chibs still laughing at me.

***

Juice sat in his kitchen, a cold bowl of cereal sitting in front of him. He stirred the soggy mess slowly, as he had been for the passed half hour…or was it an hour now? He had no clue. His mind was hazy. He was exhausted, as he had had absolutely no sleep. Something had deeply disturbed him, and after further research via Google, he found himself in a dark hole of worry.  
Last night’s events alone had not been what spooked him. He had been through so much worse. It was hard to phase him anymore, but one little detail—one little thing his eyes were probably never meant to see, chilled him to the bone. It scared him more than anything had within the last few years. It brought him back to a time where he found himself in a pile of deep shit. An oblivion of shit. He marched through it, and learned how to deal. Some on his own. Some through the tough love of his brothers. It had all been shoved to the deeper recesses of his mind. It did not bother him so much anymore, but he would have never thought that seeing what he saw last night would cause him to care—to bleed with sympathy.  
As soon as he washed off the grime of the night before, he ran to his laptop and looked up everything on the subject. He had never known anyone who bore such things, and after going through videos, articles, blog posts, and even songs about the subject, he understood almost completely. Some things, especially videos, had him bawling into a pillow. Others made him sick. He did not act on the sick feeling, but the pain in his stomach destroyed his appetite. As he sat with his cereal, knowing he needed to eat, his throat would not open. He was still in disbelief. Disbelief that such a thing existed, even though he had known for years, and shock that his friend—his sister, would take part in it. It scared him to even think about what brought her to it, and he wished they were more bonded so he could help.  
He spent all night, unsure of what to do, and nervous about his next encounter. He wished he had said something. He wished he had found out under calmer circumstances. Nevertheless, he was glad he found out now. One of these days, it could be too late. He cared too much—loved too much to lose someone else. He was lucky he still had Tig, who brought him into the club in the first place, and Chibs, who knew the boy better than the entire crew, and had always, always given a shit about him. Given him so many second chances, because he understood. Granted, he was treated as he deserved, and one treatment ended in the medic stitching his eyebrow back up, but he needed that punishment. He never hated him for it. The two were at a mutual understanding of each other, and it made him think of maybe taking this to the President.  
Juice pushed his bowl away and clasped his hands together, holding them at his mouth. Everything he had heard, watched, read and learned from his investigation came forward and brought tears to his eyes. Imagining what Callie was going through, what brought her so low, and knowing that some of the awful he suffered through was happening to her caused an invisible vice to squeeze his heart. He never wished his problems on anybody. Not even his enemies. He had many times been in a similar position as the people screaming out for help on the Internet, but for someone so close suffering, he knew he had to do something. He didn’t want to wake up one day and find out they were down a member again, and he had said nothing to prevent it. He just didn’t know how. Who would he go to? What would he say? Should he talk to Callie first? How would he approach her? How could he, knowing what was going through her head? Should he ask Tig? No, Tig probably wouldn’t understand it. Chibs?  
Juice looked up at the window. Chibs would understand, he knew that for a fact. The question was, could he put his brother through that again? He knew he cared about Callie. He knew without a doubt he would try to help her. But, he also knew the pain it would cause.  
Juice’s eyes watered when he remember Chibs finding him in the woods. He remembered watching him bend down to pick up the chain, weigh it in his hands as he put together Juice’s strange behavior and the bruise, uncovering the lie, and realizing what was really up. The flash of heartbreak that swept across his face before his eyes went cold with anger. He did nothing as Chibs jumped him, screaming at him, tears in his eyes and an inability to immediately pick Juice up and tell him it was okay because of his strict loyalty and the bullshit terms of the club. Juice had cried in a pitiful ball as Chibs stormed away, seating himself against a tree and fighting the pain. Juice had cried in fear, emotional pain, and guilt for causing the pain on his older brother’s face. But he loved Chibs, and Chibs loved him, and in a small window, where Chibs broke away from the title of Son to the friend world, he hugged Juice, letting him cry on his shoulder. Ever since, Chibs was right there to check on him. That was what he needed. Someone to be there. Chibs’ front was to check and make sure he was not about to break and turn rat, even though certain circumstances had already made him a rat. But Chibs cared. He knew this. He didn’t want to put him through that pain with Callie, but he didn’t know what else to do.  
The digital clock on the stove read 9:00 A.M. Juice took the wasted cereal, poured it down the garbage disposal, then cleaned up before heading out to Redwoody for church. He decided, as he mounted his bike, he would see how church went before saying a word. If Chibs was in a rotten mood, or if shit went down with Callie, he’d keep his mouth shut. He promised, though, that he would find a window soon to get Chibs alone and tell him what he found. Even if he never got the chance, he knew Chibs would find out. The quiet and always observant Filip Telford could read anyone like a book. However, even if he never caught on, Juice was going to make it a point to help his little sister. Whenever she needed someone, he would be at her beck and call, because aside from Chibs, no one else would understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave me a comment and show the love.


	14. I Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING

How do you get T.O. laugh his ass off at you and Chibs to be completely emasculated? My bike trying to bite me.  
I followed Chibs into Redwoody the next morning for church. Chibs was tired when we left, his coffee having yet to kick in. I, too, was exhausted, and gave him a fight when he stormed into my room and tried to grab me by the ankles. I screamed at him, playfully, pleaded for him not to do it, for it would hurt my hip. He backed down, and I told him I would be up in the next five minutes. I truly meant what I said, but when I accidentally fell asleep for the next 20, he came back in, pulled my pillow out from under my head, and tried to beat me with it, ranting at a pace where I could no longer understand him, his accent was so thick. Thankfully, I was decent under the covers, and chased him out.

“You know, Tig never did that!” I had shouted to him from the doorway as he ducked into the living room.

“Didn’t have to,” he called back, then started imitating a usual Tig and Venus…romp.

This was Chibs’ way of playing, but he was going to get payback for that. Nonviolent payback, but payback nonetheless.  
The two of us moved like zombies, even on the road, and in being too tired to start the day, I was not paying attention to my bike. As we drove up to Redwoody, where some of the clubs’ bikes were already parked, T.O. and Rat just now dismounting and removing their helmets, Chibs revved in, speeding up a little to make it around the corner. No problem on a Harley. However, with the amount of grunt my bike provided, accelerating as he had was not the best idea. As I rounded the corner, my front end lifted, and I was suddenly awake. T.O. saw the whole thing, and burst out laughing.

“Damn, girl! I thought you knew how to handle that beast?” he called out.

I parked beside Chibs and pushed the kickstand down before removing my helmet to talk.

“It’s been awhile,” I replied.

T.O. smiled, then cast a glance to Chibs.

“Kinda makes you wanna rethink riding that, huh?” he asked.

Chibs shot him a death glare.

“Speed isn’t everythin’,” he replied.

“Until her bike makes ours look like mopeds,” T.O. argued.

Chibs dismounted his bike and put the helmet on the handlebars.

“Table in five,” was all he had to say.

T.O. chuckled and walked inside. Tig walked outside as Chibs and I were walking up to the door.

“Show off,” Chibs whispered to me.

I just laughed at him. Tig greeted us both with a hug.

“Just got off the phone with Álvarez. They’re getting the window fixed up today. Opening up this afternoon. Everything should be business as usual. Venus and some of the girls are making breakfast for all of us after church.”

Chibs nodded.

“Right. ‘Kay, let’s get in there. Got some Irish business to discuss,” he said.

“Guns?” Tig asked, seeming confused.

Chibs shook his head.

“Nah,” he replied, patting the VP’s shoulder, “Stitchin’ up old wounds.”

Tig nodded. Chibs slipped by him and Tig threw an arm around my shoulders.

“You doin’ alright, baby girl?” he asked.

We walked inside and I nodded.

“Yeah. Just tired. Had a hard time getting out of bed. Doesn’t help Chibs beat the shit out of me with my own pillow,” I replied.

Tig chuckled.

“He sounds like he’s doing better,” he replied.

I smiled.

“Yeah. He’s been in a good mood. I think it helps to know he has friends close by. That shit could have crushed anyone,” I replied.

Tig nodded. He still didn’t know the whole story, but it was for Chibs to tell.

“Are you going to stay up there? I know he was going to help you find your own place and all,” he said.

I looked up at the ridiculously tall VP.

“Miss me?” I asked.

Tig laughed.

“Always. It was nice having a full house,” he replied.

I smiled.

“Okay, then we’ll schedule a big slumber party next weekend. I’ll bring my bunny pajamas,” I replied jokingly.

Tig laughed.

“I was just teasin’ ya, Cal,” he said.

I smiled.

“I know,” I replied.

I glanced over at Chibs, who was speaking with Rane. I really did enjoy spending time with him. Even at low moments in the middle of the night. He always seemed to be within arms reach. Always approachable. Conversations were always entertaining. He was extremely smart. There were moments where he didn’t shine so bright—a blonde moment, but they were few and far between. He held a deep bitterness. You could see it in his eyes when he didn’t speak. The “I” word triggered it, most of the time. When it wasn’t the Irish, or Ireland itself, it was Gemma’s sins that led the club to its current status. According to him, it had been for the best, but they had lost and had dealt with an incredible amount of heartbreak. That pain was evident on his face. With that pain, though, you could see where his heart was. With his boys. The club. A lot of love was there, and he had plenty to share equally with everyone. As far as leading, he was still learning, but he was looked up to. Respected. Loved by all of his brothers and friends. His family, which by a vote and a few patches, had also become mine. A family in which Chibs loved deeply.  
His flawed, but still beautiful soul, reflected outwardly. I had started to really take notice the night I brought his drunken ass back to Tig’s. He had a certain charm and attraction all his own. The cadence of his voice, his expressive face, clothing choice. Chibs was all man. Americanized to a certain degree. I could not pinpoint any exact reason I was gradually finding myself attracted to the Prez. I knew better than to let my heart rule out all reason, especially now that I was a club member, but I could always look, and it never hurts to daydream. Part of it, I suppose was his height and the way he carried himself. His clothing accentuating the broadness of his shoulders and the length of his legs. Some of it was this brilliant smile of his, big white teeth, eyes lighting up along with it. Huge, endless laugh when you actually got him relaxed and amused. A certain swagger with a cigarette. That cliché “bad biker boy” image. I think most of it, though, was in his eyes. There was power, anger, warmth, danger. Eyes that saw all. Eyes that listened to your every word. Watched your every move. Eyes that loved and cared as deep as they hated and punished. The eyes of a sarcastic asshole that almost had his ass kicked last night. Eyes of a best friend who wanted nothing more than happiness for everyone. Someone, who never once put himself, but everyone else first. When everyone was first, he didn’t have to put any thought into himself. To some extent, that was good. However, either way, it worried me.

“I just don’t like the idea of leaving him alone,” I murmured to Tig.

And that was the honest truth.

“Why? He’s stable, right?” Tig asked.

I nodded.

“He’s fine, and I know he can take care of himself, but he still needs time to heal,” I replied.

“Baby, you know him and Fiona weren’t at all close. Not in the end. I don’t think a divorce would hurt him too bad,” he said.

I shook my head and pulled him aside.

“It wasn’t the divorce that got him. It…I can’t tell you everything, but it’s something Fiona did. It had to do with his daughter. That’s all I can tell you,” I whispered.

Tig furrowed his eyebrows.

“It hurt him, and it’s something he’ll never be able to shake, but he’ll heal. It’s just not something easy to do alone.”

Tig nodded.

“I totally agree with you. When…when Dawn passed away, you know? You know who I leaned on?”

I tilted my head to the side.

“Gem and Chibby. Jax, too, but it was all Gemma and Chibs. Massive amounts of support and love from them. Chibs always checked in. It’s nice he has someone to give that back to him,” he said.

I smiled.

“Table!” Chibs called, his voice echoing over the sound of whatever cheesy pop Lyla had playing.

The door opened and Juice walked in. Tig nudged me.

“Duty calls,” he said.

Juice walked up to us and gave us a small smile. I looked up at him nervously, suddenly remembering last night. Tig reached up to rub the top of Juice’s bald head before walking off.

“Hey,” he said to me.

I swallowed thickly. Shit.

“Hey,” I replied quietly.

“I um,” Juice stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down, “I just wanted to check on you. I know I jumped you pretty hard. Just wanted to make sure I didn’t do any damage. Hurt your hip or anything.”

I sighed in relief and smiled.

“No, I’m okay. Nothing that won’t be gone by tomorrow,” I replied.

Juice smiled.

“Good.”

I reached up and hugged him.

“Thank-you,” I said softly.

“Just looking out for my little sis,” he said.

I smiled and gave him a light squeeze before backing up. That’s when I finally got a good look at his face. He had deep, purple bags under his eyes, the whites of his eyes so bloodshot they were almost solid pink, color drained from his face.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

Juice looked confused.

“Yeah,” he said weakly.

I touched his cheek examining the fatigue in his face, noting the feeling of day old beard under my palm.

“You look exhausted, Juice,” I said quietly.

He nodded.

“I didn’t get much sleep. Computer tried to quit on me. I got stuck working on it,” he replied.

I nodded. I knew that misery.

“Did you get it?” I asked.

He shrugged.

“For the most part,” he replied.

I gave him a small smile.

“Come on. After church, Venus is bringing in breakfast. You’ll feel better after you eat,” I replied.

Juice didn’t look convinced, but smiled anyway.

“Yeah. Come on,” he said.

We turned around and walked do the hall to chapel, and I wondered if he really had computer problems, or if it was something else.

***

“I smell French toast!” Tig screamed as the club filed down the hall after a productive meeting.

“Boys, ya’ll come line up. Get as much as ya want,” Venus spoke.

Juice stood from the table and shut the door as the last person left, leaving him alone in the room with Chibs. When Chibs heard the door shut, he looked up to see Juice, one hand pressed to the door.

“What is it, Juicey boy?” he asked, gathering some maps and things from the meeting.

Juice turned around, his eyes watery and puppy-like. Chibs knew that look.

“Can we talk? Somewhere private?” he asked.

Chibs chewed his tongue in thought, studying the Scout before nodding.

“Aye. Office,” he replied.

Juice nodded and opened the door. Chibs followed the boy down the hall and they disappeared into the office. Chibs entered first, moving to the desk to put the papers away. Juice shut the door and locked it. Chibs sat behind the desk, propping his worn gray boots onto the corner.

“What’s up?” he asked.

Juice walked in front of the desk and sat on the edge. The troubled look and obvious exhaustion worried him. He had no idea what could possibly be troubling Juice, but he knew if someone was trying to use him to stir up shit, they were messing with the wrong kid.  
Juice took a moment, composing his thoughts before his eyes locked with the President’s. The watery look was gone, and Chibs somehow knew this was something entirely different.

“Are you okay?” Chibs asked, worrying if Juice was closing in on another breakdown—ones of which he was supposed to come to Chibs for help.

“Yeah, I’m okay. It’s actually Callie I’m worried about, man,” he said.

Chibs’ heart leapt. He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the edge of the desk and clasping his hands together.

“Callie?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Juice replied, “I…”

Juice looked around at the windows, making sure there was no movement outside. He then leaned down closer to Chibs.

“She has scars all over her wrists, man. Both of them,” he whispered.

Chibs’ felt his breath catch, and his mind and heart skid to a halt. Had he heard Juice correctly?

“Scars?” he asked, “What kind of scars?”

“Self-harm,” Juice said sadly.

Chibs took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure what to think about this.

“How did you find out?” he asked.

“Last night, just after the explosion. I jumped Callie to protect her from any debris. Grabbed her wrists. Her sleeves were pushed down and when I let go, I saw them. Scared the hell out of me,” he said.

Chibs looked down at the tabletop, trying to wrap his head around what he was hearing.

“Did she say anything?” he asked.

“No, we never talked about it. She knows I know, and I wasn’t gonna say anything, but after doing some research last night, I had to tell someone. When someone is doing that, Chibs—when they’re in that mindset…it’s bad. She needs help.”

Chibs slowly nodded in agreement.

“Swear you won’t tell anyone else. I don’t want her to hate me for ratting, but I don’t want something bad to happen to her,” Juice said.

Chibs held his hand up, one wrapped around a fist, resting above his mouth as he processed this. Callie was self-harming. He had never suspected it, but he knew she was hurting. Her thinking that was her only escape created a painful knot in his stomach.

“Me neither,” he replied quietly.

His flashed up to Juice.

“I’ll talk to her.”

Juice made a pained expression.

“I know what happens when a club member gets like this. I ask that you please don’t kick her out.”

Chibs furrowed his eyebrows.

“Why do you think I would kick her out? Because of what happened with you?” he asked.

Juice nodded, looking guilty. Chibs stood and put a hand around the back of Juice’s neck.

“Look at me, boy,” he said, and Juice obeyed, “Conditions like this, to me, don’t mean shit in regards to the club. We aren’t fuckin’ robots, Juicey. We’re all human. These kinds of problems are not a weakness to the club. Clay and Jax didn’t understand that, but they also didn’t understand that with this life, shit like this is almost inevitable. We’ve all gone through some sort of depression. We have to be there for each other, not toss them out. Then we really will lose ‘em.”

Juice nodded in agreement. Chibs patted Juice’s shoulder.

“I’ll talk to her. You go out and get somethin’ to eat,” he said.

Juice nodded and thanked him. Chibs smiled and watched Juice leave before shutting the door and giving himself a moment.  
A drunken confession to Tig, and a little bit of flirting had not been the entire story. He liked Callie. She was strong, stubborn even. But he liked that. It was female strength that made him weak. Had him like putty. Of course, putty can be manipulated. He learned that the hard way from his ex-wife. In some ways, Callie was like Fiona. Fiercely protective, as she had displayed at Diosa the night before, caring, loving, would shoot your brains out if endangered. She carried old baggage. Old heartache. A dark cloud seemed to follow her wherever she walked. A ghost. That smile of hers, the smile that hooked him, was fading away. He refused to let that happen.  
The girl had quickly become his best friend. Had turned him around. In time of need, was right by his side. His crush had not waned, not in the least bit. It had gotten progressively worse and he had done nothing to steer his thoughts around, but he didn’t want to. He had blown a bunch of bullshit Tig’s way one night, telling him a bunch of sap about how he loved her beautiful smile, dark blue eyes and this punk ass attitude he was able to bite right back with. He weaved lovesick tales that made Tig want to puke, but even a little buzzed, he had been dead serious. Tig had seen this. His best friend had it bad, but he knew Chibs was being real with him. He had pulled Chibs aside, placing a hand on his shoulder, icy blue eyes piercing right through dark brown.

“Chibby, listen to me. Are you serious about her? I mean, truly serious. You love her? This isn’t the alcohol?”

“Please, I’ve only had two. Takes more than that to get me drunk!” Chibs had retorted.

Tig studied his brother for a moment before touching a hand to his chest, just above the dollar tattoo.

“If you mean this, Chibs, then I want you to know that if you break her heart, I’ll break your fucking legs. We are talking about a girl who has lost everything. If you gain her trust and then break it—“

“I’m not gonna do that, Tiggy. I’m well aware of what she’s been through. I don’t even know if I want to go through with anythin’! I just know that I have feelings for the girl,” he replied.

Tig nodded.

“Real feelings?” he asked.

Chibs nodded.

“Absolutely, brother,” he replied.

Tig then pulled him into a hug.

“Then if it’s right, it’ll happen,” he said in Chibs’ ear before pulling back, holding the M/C President by the shoulders, “I love you, and I’ve come to love that girl, too. Both of you deserve happiness.”

Chibs smiled and hugged Tig again, thanking him before the VP resumed teasing him.

He loved her. It took a while for it to settle in after that night, but the more he thought about it, the more it became right. He never wanted to lose her, either, and this new news from Juice crippled him. He knew the world Callie was suffering in all too well.

***

That evening, I found myself out on Chibs’ back porch with my jacket, an old rag, and a bottle of leather conditioner. I had been meaning to work on my jacket for a while now, as a conditioning was way overdue, but I finally had the time tonight. Unfortunately, there was only one place to do it, and that was outside. This particular conditioner was so pungent, that the fumes made me dizzy, no matter what room was in. I resorted to the back porch, curled up in a patio chair in one of Chibs’ hoodies I snitched from the coatrack. He didn’t care, since I didn’t have one, and his was insulated, keeping me warm as I rubbed the conditioner into the leather.  
I was halfway through when the glass doors slid open and Chibs stepped out, an almost depleted cigarette between his fingers. He walked by me, around the small patio table, and to the other seat, sitting with a heavy sigh and flicked his ash into the bottom of a ceramic planter that he had apparently assigned as a makeshift ashtray, as it was loaded with butts.

“How’s it goin’, darlin’?” he asked.

I glanced up at him as I spread a pleated area under the sleeve.

“Alright, I guess. I hate unzipping and unbuttoning everything. Never has been my favorite chore,” I replied.

Chibs smiled and took one last drag from his cigarette before snuffing out in the tray.

“Can’t argue with ya there, lass,” he replied.

I smiled and flipped the sleeve over, finishing up the last of the conditioning before I stood up and thanked Chibs for letting me borrow the conditioner.

“Any time. Hey, I need to talk to ya about somethin’,” he said.

I nodded.

“‘Kay. Let me put this up and I’ll be right back,” I replied.

Chibs nodded. I returned my jacket to the coat rack by the front door before coming back outside. The weather wasn’t that bad. Not nearly as windy as last night, and it was nice to be in the fresh air. Chibs was fiddling with a bottle cap that had been left on the table when I returned. He glanced up at me as I shut the glass doors and sat down again.

“Juice came to me this morning,” he began.

I felt my heart jump into my throat. Oh, fuck!

“Said he saw scars on your wrists,” he finished.

I nervously looked down and pulled the navy blue sleeves of his hoodie over my hands.

“It’s no big deal,” I said quietly.

I stood from the chair and walked over to the railing. I couldn’t look him in the eye.

“No big deal?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Yeah,” I said weakly.

Chibs snorted. I glanced over my shoulder to catch a sideways glimpse of him, leaning forward, his eyes wide and alarmed.

“Callie, this is a very big deal,” he said lowly.

I closed my eyes and looked away. I never, ever wanted him to find out. What Juice saw was an accident, and it wasn’t like I didn’t expect him to keep his mouth shut, but I had never intended on Chibs finding out. I never wanted anyone to know.

“It’s fine, Chibs. I’m fine, okay?”

“Bullshit!”

“Really!” I exclaimed, “Can we just drop it? I don’t want to talk about it!”

“Callie, why would you do that to yourself?”

I shook my head.

“We’re not talking about this,” I said quietly.

“Why?” he demanded.

I spun around angrily.

“Because you wouldn’t understand!” I snapped.

Anger flashed over his face.

“Oh, I wouldn’t understand?” he snapped back.

He shot straight up to his feet, and what he did next had me standing in complete shock. Chibs stood before me, pulled back the sleeves of his jacket, and showed my the undersides of his arms. Both arms, from the wrists all the way passed the elbows, was a jagged, criss-cross of lines. Some pink, some white. Some bubbled up from how they healed. Some longer than others. Some deeper. All of which told a story of pain I knew well. As I stared at them in horror, I couldn’t believe it. Of all the guys in the club, and even Venus, I never expected this from Chibs.

“I understand perfectly, sweetheart,” he said, voice soft again, “I understand better than anyone.”

I could feel my shoulders shaking. I looked up at him, clenching my teeth hard. I could care less about my own scars. That was an old scab, but seeing them on other people always broke me. Didn’t matter who it was. Seeing them on Chibs? It broke my heart.

“Can I see?” he asked softly.

I nodded and pulled the sleeves back, showing him years worth of abuse that I had inflicted upon myself. All old, but their existence was all that mattered. Chibs gently took hold of my arms, rubbing his thumbs across the nearest scars. He sighed heavily.

“Callie girl,” he whispered.

Tears welled up in my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Chibs looked up at me.

“Darlin’, you have nothin’ to apologize for,” he said.

I bit my lip and nodded. He let go of my arms and took both sides of my face.

“I just wanna make sure you’re okay, alright?”

I nodded and took hold of his wrists.

“You’re not alone, love,” he said softly.

I sniffed as he touched his forehead to mine. I lost it then, and fell into his chest. Chibs wound his arms tightly around me and kissed the side of my head. I held his jacket in a death grip, and we stood out there like that for a long time before the dropping temperature forced us back in.

“Come on,” he said, moving back and wiping my wet face, “Let’s go in and warm up. Have a drink.”

I nodded and he gestured for me to lead the way. I walked inside, trying to compose myself, and went straight for the paper towels to blow my nose before sitting at the table. Chibs grabbed a couple of beers from the refrigerator and sat one in front of me before sitting down across from me. I opened my beer and took a sip, trying to hide my disgust. I was never a beer person. Chibs shrugged his jacket off, sporting only a plain black t-shirt, exposing his arms. He turned one over and sighed.

“How long have you been clean?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“Three years, soon. You?”

He nodded.

“‘Bout the same,” he replied in a quiet voice, “Although, I’ve been tempted several times.”

I looked at him sadly. He reached across the table and took one of my hands.

“I want you to promise me somethin’, Cal. The next time you feel like you need to, please come to me. Go to Juice, even. Or hell! Go talk to Tig. Anyone to distract you and deter you from this. Don’t harm your beautiful wrists again.”

That made me tear up again. I reached across the table and took his other hand.

“I will never do it again, so long as you promise me you won’t. Promise me you won’t, Filip,” I said.

His eyes became watery and he nodded silently.

“You come to me next time,” I said.

He nodded again.

“I promise,” he said.

I reached across the table to hug him, wrapping an arm around his head and kissing his hairline.

“I promise, too,” I whispered.

Chibs gripped the hoodie I was wearing tightly.

“Love ya, sweetheart,” he whispered.

“Love you, too.”

Chibs and I soon moved from the kitchen to the living room, sitting in the dark numbly watching TV and eating leftover burritos. Chibs was stretched out on the couch, and I sat on the floor below him, drinking a water while he was on his second beer. He didn’t drink much of it, and instead left it sitting on the coffee table with my empty plate. He draped an arm over my shoulder. I looked back at him to see him watching the TV with tired eyes.

“Can I ask you somethin’, Cal?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

I held his wrist and settled against the couch, hugging his arm.

“What made you start?” he asked.

I leaned my head against his shoulder.

“Zero’s death. Being alone and feeling forgotten. I couldn’t take it. I was dealing with depression and everything. I was in a dark place,” I replied.

Chibs nodded.

“Why did you?” I asked.

Chibs took a deep breath.

“I put two bullets in the back of this boy’s head, back in Ireland. We were both roughly the same age. It fucked me up. First time I had ever killed anyone. I was usually saving people,” he replied.

I nodded and absently rubbed the back of his hand.

“I’d come out of it and slip back in every once in a while. There was some messed up with shit with Fiona a while back that caused me to trigger. Tore myself pretty good that time. Just being alone and scared.”

I nodded.

“Did you want to a few weeks ago? The shit with Kerrianne?” I asked.

He nodded.

“I thought about it. Stopped myself,” he replied.

I nodded.

“How did you stop yourself?” I asked curiously.

He shrugged and glanced down at me.

“Wasn’t alone,” he replied.

I gave him a small smile and received a kiss on the forehead, which I took as a thank-you.

“Does Juice know? About yours?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“I don’t want him to know,” he replied.

I looked back up at the TV, a ghost hunting show playing at low volume.

“I won’t tell,” I said.

We sat in silence for a long time before I spoke again. What I wanted to tell him was a secret I had never planned on telling him. But, I felt like he deserved to know.

“Thank-you, Filip,” I said quietly.

Chibs turned his head raised an eyebrow at me.

“For what, sweetheart?” he asked.

I swallowed my nervousness.

“For giving me a second chance,” I replied.

His eyebrows knitted together in concern.

“I, um…when I left Huntington, I never planned on coming back. The reason I packed so light. The gun.”

Chibs’ concern deepened, his eyes hardening.

“I was going to end it up there. See my parents’ graves and then…go see them,” I said quietly.

Chibs was shocked.

“What? Why?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“I lost my purpose. Lost my will. I still can’t believe I lasted as long as I did,” I replied.

Chibs was silent for a moment, speechless.

“Jesus Christ, Callie,” he managed to say.

“Guess it was a good thing I crash-landed here,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

Chibs sat up, crawled into the floor next to me. I was pulled into a hug, almost yanked into his lap, held in an unbreakable hold.

“A very good thing,” he said.

I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant, exactly, but I rolled with it, and agreed. Had my life never flipped like it did, I would have been fine never knowing who the hell Chibs was, but with things going down the path they were, I was forever grateful. If fate had anything to do with it, I was glad it led me to Chibs. To seal the wounds, mend a heart, and find a home, happiness, and a friend for life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys thought! Thanks for reading!


	15. That'll Be It, My Brother

The next few days went by without much of a hitch. A new window was installed at Diosa, and news got around that the three kids got picked up for a DUI and drug possession. Cigarettes and pot. Some of us laughed at that. Chibs just rolled his eyes. Tig went on a rant about what he would have done to those boys. Of course, getting arrested and a broken nose seemed to be good enough. Tig wanted them dead. I couldn’t blame him, but what was done is done, and everything was quiet again. We kept ourselves busy with shit that needed to be brought up to speed. Business at TM. T.O. and I performing our duties as semi-Prospects and cleaning the bikes. Juice, Rat and I working on updating club communications, including getting WiFi in Redwoody for Lyla. Tig, Happy, Rane and Montez went on small run before returning. Tig and Chibs worked the books, and in our boredom, Juice and I cleaned guns.   
It was getting late, the evening hours upon us. Juice and I were finishing up and getting ready to call it a night and head home. Chibs, however, wasn’t quite finished, so Juice and I sat around, drinking coffee and talking about nothing. I had not seen or said much to Juice since the day after the explosion, and had not had the chance to say anything about the scars. In a quiet moment, I finally spoke about it. 

“Thank-you for…for talking to Chibs. You know…about…” I trailed off and twisted my wrists, not really able to speak the words, or wanting anyone to overhear. 

Juice’s cheeks turned red and he looked down in shame. 

“Look, Cal. I’m sorry. I would have never said anything, but it scared me. I didn’t know who else to tell, but I knew if anyone could help, it would be Chibs.”

“No, it’s okay,” I said. 

Because, if that argument had never happened, I would have never found out Chibs was going through the same thing, and we would have never been able to help each other. The conversation needed to happen.   
Juice looked confused. 

“We talked about it. I’m fine. Those scars are pretty old. Just evidence of a dark period,” I replied. 

Juice nodded. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said. 

I nodded, then leaned over to hug him. 

“I am. Thank-you,” I said softly. 

Juice smiled at me. 

“No problem.”

I set my now empty styrofoam cup aside and slid down from the barstool. 

“I’m gonna step out for a minute,” I said, reaching inside of the hoodie I had borrowed from Chibs. 

The thing was warm and hard to let go of sometimes. 

“What for?” Juice asked. 

My fingers wrapped around a pack of smokes I had bought from my last gas station trip. Some old habits can be buried. Some just never seem to die.   
I pulled the pack from the pocket and waved them at Juice. He looked stunned. 

“I didn’t know you smoked!”

I laughed. 

“Only on special occasions,” I replied. 

Juice smiled and I walked to the door, stepping out into the cold wind and tapping a cigarette from the box. I placed it between my lips and replaced the pack, trading it for a lighter. I made it a point to buy the brightest color and write my name on it, as when you leave lighters around Chibs, they go missing. I lit up and leaned against the side of the building, quenching my craving that had been resurrected from hanging out with the guys. I could kick each one of their asses, but at the moment, I was too chilled to care.   
About halfway through, a car pulled in, and I stood straight up. 

“Damn,” flew out of my mouth before I could stop it. 

The car was gorgeous. Electric blue, gleaming chrome, and from what I could see, white interior, if not something close. Amazing condition and a nice, beastly sound. It was one of the most beautiful Chevy Impala’s I had seen in a long time.   
The car parked close to the line of bikes and its driver stepped out. He was tall, about Tig’s height, a bit taller than Chibs. Short black hair, neatly combed and parted. Gray beard, only certain bits still holding black. Soft, tired face. Tattoos were showing out of the top of his white undershirt. He wore an olive green cardigan over it, a cross around his neck, and gray slacks. This was certainly different.   
He slowly walked towards me, pushing his car keys into his pants pocket, and gave me a small smile. I gestured to the Impala. 

“Nice car, man,” I said. 

He smiled wider and glanced over his shoulder to it. 

“Thanks,” he said. 

He had soft, but gruff voice. Set a little high. I took another drag from my cigarette and blew the smoke the other way. 

“’64?” I asked. 

He smiled. 

“’63,” he replied, “You a car girl?”

I shrugged. 

“I was close,” I replied. 

The guy smiled. He looked me over and gestured to my shirt. 

“Soft colors, huh?” he asked. 

I looked down at my white SAMCRO t-shirt, forgetting I had even worn it today. I smiled meekly and flicked the ash from my cigarette. 

“Prospect,” I replied. 

The guy looked momentarily stunned. 

“Really?” he asked. 

I nodded. He chuckled. 

“Callie Shepherd,” I said, offering my hand. 

He smiled and shook it. 

“Nero Padilla,” he said, Spanish accent coming through. 

My eyes widened. So this was Nero! 

“Nice to meet you, man,” I replied. 

He just smiled, but it quickly faded. 

“Is, uh, your Prez around by any chance?” he asked. 

I nodded. 

“He’s inside. Come on,” I said. 

I turned to go for the door when Nero grabbed it and politely opened it. I thanked him and stepped inside. Lyla and her girls were shutting down for the day, and Juice had disappeared from the bar. 

“They were running books, so they should be in the office,” I said to him over my shoulder. 

He chuckled. 

“Slow day, I’m guessing?” he asked. 

I nodded. 

“Chibs!” I called. 

“Office!” Chibs called back. 

I lead Nero towards the hall and walked down to the office where I found the entire crew, Chibs laying out next week’s plans. I knocked and poked my head in. The guys looked up at me, Chibs looking up over the rims of his glasses. 

“What’s up?” he asked. 

“You got a visitor,” I replied. 

Nero slipped inside the cramped office. Chibs shot out of his chair and walked over to hug him.

“Hey, brother,” Chibs said. 

Nero hugged Chibs and patted his back. 

“You doin’ okay?” he asked. 

Nero watched Chibs for a moment before shaking his head. 

“Um…not-not really, no,” he replied, starting to choke up, “I’m assuming none of you have seen the news.”

Tig stepped forward. 

“What news, man? What happened?” he asked. 

Nero just shook his head. 

“It’s bad, mano,” he replied. 

Chibs took Nero’s shoulder and guided him to the chair behind the desk. 

“Sit down,” he said. 

Nero moved over to the chair. 

“Shut the door, Rat,” Tig said quietly. 

Rat, who was standing beside me, shut the office door. I settled beside him and Juice and glanced back over at Nero. He was deeply disturbed, tears welling up in his eyes. I felt bad for him. He seemed like a nice guy. 

“What’s goin’ on, brother?” Chibs asked, holding Nero’s shoulder and leaning down to eye level. 

Nero sniffed and cleared his throat. 

“Is it the boys?” Chibs asked. 

Nero shook his head. 

“No, they’re fine,” he replied. 

He tried to compose himself, but he next words had him almost in shambles. 

“It’s Jax,” he whispered. 

The air suddenly went cold, worry washing over the crew. 

“Wendy got a call this morning. Jax apparently got in this police chase somewhere outside of Charming. I don’t know any details of how that shit came about. Anyway…witnesses say he ran into oncoming traffic.”

“Ah, shit!” Tig said. 

“Is he okay? Was he hit?” Chibs asked. 

Tears streamed down Nero’s cheeks. 

“He was struck by a semi,” he said weakly, then whispered, “He didn’t make it.”

Chibs immediately went pale. Tig grabbed him. 

“Whoa. Easy, Chibby. Breathe, brother,” he said. 

Juice let out a shaky breath. 

“Jesus Christ,” Rat whispered. 

“Shit,” Juice whispered. 

Happy backed into a chair, put his face in his hands, and lost it. Rane held his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, boys,” Nero said. 

Chibs nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“How are the boys and Wendy?” Tig asked. 

Nero nodded. 

“They’re okay. Wendy and I are going to tell Abel soon. Probably tomorrow. Thomas has no clue. He’s too young, you know?”

Tig nodded. 

“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you. I thought you all might have heard already,” Nero said. 

Chibs shook his head and gripped the man’s shoulder. 

“It’s okay. Thank-you for tellin’ us,” he said. 

Nero nodded. 

“Listen, um, Jax left a bunch of his legal papers with me before he left. Wills and shit. All of his money, the garage and the property its on, and his house is willed to Wendy so she can sell it and use the money for the boys. I know that puts you guys out of a job, but you might be able to work something out.”

“No,” Chibs said firmly, “We don’t need it. Tell her to not worry about it. Those kids come first. TM is goin’ down the shitter anyway.”

Nero nodded. 

“‘Kay. Well, Jax told me he had everything set up with Hale. Scoops is official SAMCRO headquarters. He said you guys can talk to Hale and have full run of the place.”

The guys nodded. 

“Thank-you,” Chibs said. 

Nero wiped his eyes and stood up. 

“I’m going to head out. Again, I’m really sorry,” he said. 

Chibs nodded and hugged him. Nero hugged the rest of us and shook hands with me and T.O. before leaving. Chibs backed into the wall to brace himself. Tig held his arm. 

“What should we do, Chibs?” he asked. 

Chibs swallowed visibly and locked his eyes with his VP. He then glanced around him to Happy.

“Hap, come here,” he said. 

Happy composed himself and stood up, approaching them. Chibs took his shoulder and then held the side of his face. Happy nodded to him. 

“I’m good, boss.”

Chibs nodded. 

“I need you two to go find him. Get the…get Jackie boy,” he said. 

Tig and Happy nodded. 

“On it,” Tig replied. 

They then hugged Chibs before turning and leaving. 

“Juicey, go tell Lyla,” he said, “The rest of you, take off. Go home and rest. Do whatever.”

He grabbed his cut from the back of the chair and walked by me, touching my arm. 

“Let’s go, sweetheart,” he said. 

I nodded and followed. The boys followed out behind us. I looked up at Chibs’ backside, scared. I knew he and the former President of SAMCRO had been close, and his reaction—the look in his eyes when Nero broke the news, spoke volumes. The shit with Fiona, Gemma, and general stress. The would be the last straw. I had seen how he could be heartbroken by a lie. I had no idea how he would react to this.   
Thinking quickly, I spun around in search of Juice, finding him right behind me. I grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. 

“Are you heading home?” I asked. 

Juice nodded. 

“Unless I head to a bar, but I’ll probably just go home. Why?”

“Can you be available in case I need you? I don’t know what Chibs plans on doing, but can you keep your phone nearby? Just in case?” I asked. 

Juice nodded. 

“Absolutely.”

I thanked him and he hugged me.

“Drive safe,” he said. 

I nodded. 

“You, too,” I replied. 

With that, we parted, and I caught up with Chibs outside. He was silent, only asking if I was ready before we hit the road. I never knew much about Jax Teller, other than what I had heard, and knowing beforehand that he was an idiot. That wasn’t just it, though. These guys loved him. He had made a long-lasting impact on all of their lives, and his death had been like a punch in the face. I mean, seeing Happy, of all of my brothers, lose his shit immediately, I knew that he must have been pretty special to them.   
At Chibs’ house, we parked beside each other under the carport and I followed him through the side door and down a short hallway that led to the intersection of the house, the hall to the door to our left, the entrance to the hall and kitchen to our right, and the entrance to the living room in front of us. Chibs pulled his cut and jacket off of his shoulders. 

“Want me to take that, darlin’?” he asked, referring to the hoodie. 

I nodded and took it off, handing it to him. The house was plenty warm. I didn’t need it. 

Chibs took the outerwear to the coatrack in the foyer, placed them on the hooks, and returned to me, pushing his fingers in his jean pockets and keeping his head down, shoulders hunched. I reached up to touch his arm. He glanced up at me with sad eyes, walking into me, and held me to him in a tight hug, bracing his shaking body. I held him tightly, as if he would rattle apart if I didn’t.   
He ducked his face into the crook of my neck, and with a choked cry, he broke down. I tightened my hold and cradled the back of his head.

“Okay, okay. I got you. It’s okay,” I said softly. 

Chibs sobbed into my neck. I didn’t move. I held him for a long time, soothing him, rocking him. Whatever I could do. I let him know that I was here, and I wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Come on. Let’s go to the couch,” I said. 

Chibs sniffed and lifted his head. He wiped his eyes and cheeks and followed me into the living room, grabbing a tissue from the Kleenex box along the way. I saw down on the couch. Chibs tossed the used tissue on the coffee table, kicked his boots off, then sat down beside me.

“I just can’t believe it,” he said, looking around the room, “I knew I would probably never seen him again, but at least I knew he was alive.”

I nodded. Chibs looked up at the vaulted ceiling, as if looking for an answer. 

“But this?” he whispered. 

His bottom lip shook, and he bit to keep it still. 

“I’ve known that kid since he was a…wee tike, ya know? Just runnin’ around playin’ with his toys. Kid with dreams.”

Chibs looked down at this hands before looking up at me. 

“He was like my little brother,” he said, “He and Opie, who we lost a couple of years ago, they were my best friends. We just ran around. Doin’ shit for the club. Drinkin’. Stirrin’ up trouble. He became VP, and I was proud of him. Later became Prez, and I was even prouder. Granted, there was some shit he pulled that I didn’t agree with, but I backed him, anyway. I watched him grow and mature more in his few years as club President than I did as his VP. The weight of it all. The pain he suffered through—it aged him. Matured him. Shaped him into a leader, and before I knew it, he wasn’t my little brother anymore. I was. I was following his footsteps. Learning from him. Bein’ older, I never imagined I would move up any higher in rank. I planned to die at his side. He would give the title to new members he trusted. Maybe his son, Abel, one day. But he didn’t want that for them, and when he stepped down, ripped my VP flash off and handed me his, my world changed. I knew what to do, and I plan on making him proud. God, I fucking miss him.”

Chibs sniffed and tears welled up in his eyes. 

“Why did He have to take him?” he whispered. 

He slid down to my shoulder, and I put one arm around his shoulder and took his hands. 

“It fucking hurts, Callie.”

I pressed my face into his hair and rubbed his shoulder. 

“I know. Trust me, I know,” I said. 

Chibs sniffed and squeezed my hands. I closed my eyes, the night my own nightmare happened rushing back, and I tried to fight it off. But I remembered when I finally, even if just a little, came to peace with it. If there was a Heaven, one not manipulated by folklore, then all angels, no matter what sins they carried, went there. It may night be a place, but perhaps a status. A condition. Maybe Heaven is something you acquire. Not a destination. Going to Heaven may mean a spirit obtains inner peace, flushed of pain, and they walk the afterlife in happiness, wherever the afterlife is. I personally believe it was still on earth. You walk the trail your living energy created. I will never know if it’s true until I die myself, but the thought helped me when Zero died. Jackson Teller was a criminal, and an idiot, but I believe he gained wings today. 

“He was so young. I remember bein’ his age. My focus was forward. I never saw an end. You’re not supposed to,” Chibs said. 

“I know, but sometimes we’re not meant to walk the earth for as long as other people. We’re here to do what we’re meant to do. Jax did what he was meant to do. Create a stable life for his boys and save the club. That was it. His time, whether you want to hear it or not, Chibs, was up. He served his duty, and he went home.”

Chibs lost it at that. I closed my eyes, tears threatening to come up with old memories. I knew this pain so well. I was Chibs once, wound up in a ball in my bed—what was once a bed shared. To see Chibs this way not only brought all that shit back up, but hurt like almighty hell.   
Chibs laid on my shoulder until the tears stopped. He sniffed, but remained silent, exhausted from the past hour’s emotions and news. When he calmed down, remained still for a little while, he spoke. 

“S’pose you’re right, Callie girl,” he said, breaking long minutes of silence.

I looked down at him. Brown eyes flickered up to look at me. 

“He’s with the woman he loves in a safe place forever. He’s where he belongs now. Home,” he said. 

I nodded and brushed away the hair that was sticking to his cheek. 

“Just keep him in your heart,” I said. 

Chibs nodded. 

“Always.”

He sighed heavily and laid still. 

“Thank-you, Callie,” he whispered. 

I kissed the side of his head. 

“Welcome,” I replied. 

A knock on the door made me jump and Chibs look up suddenly, lifting himself up from my shoulder. 

“Who the bloody hell could that be?” he asked. 

I patted his hands and stood up.

“I’ll get it,” I said. 

He pointed a finger at me.

“Gun,” he said. 

I nodded and slipped into the foyer, grabbing my gun from inside my leather jacket and kicking myself for not having it nearby. I switched the safety off and peered through the peephole. On the porch, finishing a cigarette and shuffling his feet, was Tig. 

“Shit,” I said. 

I put the safety back on and unlocked the door. 

“Hey,” I said as I opened it. 

Tig looked up and gave me a tired smile. 

“Hey, baby girl. Sorry, I should have called. I just…” Tig trailed off. 

Neither Son were in their right mind tonight. I took Tig’s sleeve and tugged on it, pulling him inside. 

“Don’t worry about it. You almost got yourself shot, though,” I said quietly. 

Tig sighed and put his hands on his hips as I shut the door and relocked it. 

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I needed to speak to Chibby. Thought I’d come up and check on you guys anyway,” he replied. 

His eyes fell upon my shoulder and he pointed to it. 

“What happened there?” he asked. 

Confused, I looked down to see a giant wet spot where Chibs’ face had been. I sighed and looked back up at the VP. 

“Chibs,” I whispered. 

A pained look washed across Tig’s face. 

“Damn. How is he?” he asked, craning he neck to see into the living room. 

I shook my head. 

“A wreck,” I replied. 

Tig nodded sadly. 

“What about you? Are you okay?” I asked. 

Tig shook his head. 

“I don’t know,” he whispered. 

I nodded. 

“Come on. He’s a mess, but I think he’d be more than happy to see you,” I said. 

Tig nodded. I led him out of the foyer and down into the living room. Chibs was laying down on the couch, legs tucked up and a throw pillow beneath his head. I set my gun down on an end table. 

“Hey, brother,” Tig said softly. 

Chibs looked up, then slowly sat back up. 

“Hey,” he replied. 

Tig shifted.

“Um, we got Jax,” he said. 

I saw a glimmer shine in his bloodshot eyes. 

“I asked Wendy what she would like to do, being his only family and all. She thought it would be best for the club to take care of it. Sons funeral. So, Hap and I got him to Skeeter. Holding him until we decide to have a funeral or just a memorial. I’d say we should go ahead and…cremate the remains.”

Chibs nodded. 

“It’s not going to be open, brother,” Tig continued. 

“Yeah, I know. I’d say a memorial, but I’m just thinkin’ of those boys. Abel needs to remember that his father was well-loved. He needs that visual. He’d understand a casket better than a small box, ya know?”

Tig nodded. 

“I think we all might need it.

Chibs nodded. 

“Closed-casket, then?” Tig asked. 

Chibs nodded again. 

“‘Kay. I’ll call Skeeter in the morning. Tell him to get a nice box. There’s a plot next to the doc. We can hold service there. You wanna call the other charters in?” Tig asked. 

Chibs looked up at his brother with the saddest eyes. 

“We can plan later. Not tonight,” he said. 

Tig nodded. 

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. I’m just trying to…focus my attention on anything right now,” the VP replied. 

Chibs stood up for the first time in a good hour and pulled Tig into a hug. Tears streamed down his cheeks. Chibs held an arm in the air and waved me over. I gladly joined the hug, holding both of them tightly. 

“Does Venus know yet?” Chibs asked. 

“Nah. She’s at work. She won’t come in until the morning. I’ll just tell her then,” he replied. 

Chibs held the side of Tig’s face. 

“Stay here tonight,” he said. 

Tig shook his head. 

“Nah, man. I just came up to check on you. I don’t want to over—“

“Tiggy,” Chibs said sternly, shutting the VP up, “Stay. We can all crash in here.”

Tig nodded. 

“Yeah, okay,” he replied. 

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I broke away from the hug and checked to see Juice’s number. 

“I’ll take this in the kitchen,” I said, “You guys want anything while I’m in there.”

“No, sweetheart. Thank-you,” Chibs replied. 

I nodded and turned away from them to answer my phone. 

“Hey,” I answered, stepping through the hall and into the kitchen. 

“Hey. Just checking in. Seeing if you guys are okay,” Juice replied. 

“Yeah. It was rough for a little while, but nothing bad or anything. He’s cried it out. Tig’s up here now.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Juice said. 

I gripped the back of one of the dining room chairs. 

“You okay?” I asked. 

Juice cleared his throat. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just got back from a ride. Clear my head, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“Probably head to bed soon, but I’ll have my phone nearby, so in case you need me.”

I smiled. 

“I’ll call you. And same here. If you need someone to talk to,” I said. 

“Yeah. Thank-you. I’ll see you later,” he said. 

With that, we said our goodbyes and hung up. I closed my phone and went to my room to change into something more comfortable, and soon found myself between Chibs and Tig in a mass of blankets and pillows in the living room floor with a couple of drinks and some popcorn tig made, watching shows to distract us.   
During a commercial break, Tig spoke for the first time in 20 minutes. 

“I love you guys. I fucking love both of you with all my heart. I just wanted you to know that,” he said. 

Chibs rolled onto his side, reached over me to take one of Tig’s hands, then one of mine. I took Tig’s other hand. 

“We love you, too, Tiggy,” Chibs said. 

Tig smiled and closed his eyes. I let go of their hands and settled on my side, facing Chibs. 

“Have ya ever seen so many tears out of two tough bikers?” Chibs asked quietly. 

I smiled. 

“It means you guys have hearts. Can’t say that about many outlaw biker gangs,” I replied. 

Chibs smiled. 

“No, ya can’t,” he agreed. 

I lightly punched his shoulder. 

“Nor do they hold slumber parties,” I said sleepily. 

Chibs cracked a smile at that. It was brief, but it happened, and that made all the difference. 

“How, um..how did you get over the hard part? With Zero?” he asked, “Time?”

I shrugged. 

“You kind of don’t. You just…learn to live without them,” I replied. 

Chibs nodded sadly. 

“Some days it hurts. Some days you never feel it. Even weeks if you’re lucky. But you must never, ever let yourself get down,” I said. 

Chibs nodded. 

“I won’t, darlin’.”

He leaned over and kissed my cheek. I kissed his and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

“Get some sleep, Chibs.”

He nodded. 

“‘Night, sweetheart.”

“Night,” I whispered. 

We closed our eyes, both of us out in a matter of minutes, completely forgetting the TV, and the world for a few hours. 

The next morning, I woke up to the smell of cigarettes and coffee. I was still curled up in the living room floor. The lights were off and all was quiet. I moved to stretch when I felt something butting up between my shoulder blades. When I turned my head to look, Tig was still wound up in a ball, his forehead against my back. I smiled and pushed my covers aside to sit up. Tig didn’t stir as I cracked my neck and climbed to my feet, following the smell of cigarettes into the kitchen.   
Inside, I found Chibs at the table, staring blankly at the wooden tabletop. 

“Morning,” I said gruffly, my voice not ready for the day. 

Chibs looked up, this sort of daze fading away. 

“Mornin’. Coffee’s fresh,” he said. 

I nodded and glanced at the pot before deciding to go ahead and have some. I needed the caffeine.   
I opened up a cabinet and grabbed a mug before reaching for the pot. 

“We’re gonna hold a meetin’ this mornin’,” Chibs spoke up. 

I poured my coffee and replaced the pot before glancing over at him. He had his elbows on the table, one hand resting to the wood and the other holding up his cigarette, both shaky. His eyes were red. He had slept. I had woken up once to go to the bathroom and another time because Tig started talking in his sleep. Both times, he was out. He had been crying again. 

“Table?” I asked. 

Chibs shook his head. 

“Here,” he replied, “With everyone. Club. Old ladies. Friends.”

I nodded and walked over to him. I didn’t sit down.

“Okay,” I said quietly. 

Chibs tapped his ash out in the ashtray, took one last drag, then snuffed it out. 

“I woke up to the news playing on the TV this morning,” he said, then looked up at me, “6:00 AM news.”

I gritted my teeth, wishing one of us had turned that thing off. I knew what he was about to say, and the last thing he needed to see was a heavily edited and probably manipulated news report. 

“I saw pieces of the bike. Blood stains on the road,” he said, his voice weakening at the end. 

I sighed and set my mug down, then walked around the table to him. 

“Why would they show that shit?” he whispered. 

I took his shoulders and leaned down to hug him. 

“To grab the viewers’ attention. You didn’t watch all of it, did you?” I asked. 

He shook his head and reached up to hold one of my hands, letting out a small whimper. 

“It’s okay,” I whispered. 

He just nodded and sniffed, then let out a shaky breath. I gave him a small squeeze before letting go of him. 

“Morning.”

Chibs and I looked up to see Tig standing in the doorway, his usually crazy hair, a more insane mess. 

“Morning,” Chibs and I replied. 

I gestured to the coffee pot. 

“Want me to pour you a cup?” I asked. 

Tig looked up at me, too sleepily to immediately understand the question. When it clicked, a look of realization washed over him and he shook his head. 

“Oh! No. No, not right now, darlin’. Thank-you,” he said. 

Tig rubbed his eyes and cast a glance to Chibs. 

“Mind if I use your shower, brother?” he asked. 

Chibs shrugged. 

“Go ahead,” he replied. 

Tig nodded. 

“Afterwards, we’re gonna call everyone. The whole clan. Arrange everythin’,” Chibs continued. 

Tig nodded. 

“Redwoody?” he asked. 

Chibs shook his head. 

“No. Here. I really can’t leave the house today,” he replied quietly. 

Tig breathed deeply. 

“Yeah,” he said gruffly, “I understand.”

Chibs glanced up at his VP. 

“Can you get Venus up here?” he asked.

Tig nodded. 

“Yeah. I’ll call her in a little bit,” he said, then sighed, “I just don’t know how I’m gonna tell her, man. It’s gonna break her heart.”

Chibs’ eyes watered. 

“Ya have to, brother,” he said. 

Tig nodded. Chibs stood up and moved to hug Tig. 

“Love you,” Chibs said. 

Tig put his arms around the Prez. 

“Love you, too.”

With that, Chibs patted Tig’s shoulder and let the VP go take his shower. I finished my coffee and cleaned the cup before setting it in the drainer. 

“I’m gonna call Juice. Let him know,” I said. 

Chibs nodded. I passed by him and he gave me a small smile and patted my shoulder before I returned to the living room to hunt for my cell and give Juice a call. As it rang, and I glanced over my shoulder at the somber Filip Telford in the kitchen, staring out the window, I knew it was going to be a long and painful day. 

***

By 9:00, Chibs’ living room was packed. The entire club was here, friends of the club, like Lyla, Chucky, and Nero. A few Old Ladies. Venus, of course, who was currently in a tearful conversation with Nero, and Brooke, Rat’s girl. Chibs was currently on the phone with Jax’s ex-wife, Wendy, sorting out some details before he sat down the rest of us. I had had my shower shortly after Tig and changed into jeans and a t-shirt before joining the rest of the club, getting scooped up by Venus immediately.   
At 9:18, the chatter died as Chibs entered the room. He walked to the fireplace, and somehow, all nine of the club members had made our table formation. Out of place, of course, as I was sitting beside Tig, but we surrounded Chibs like crows on roadkill. Venus held my hand, tears in her tired eyes. 

“Some of you don’t know the details of what happened,” Chibs began, “If ya saw the news this mornin’, ya got the jist.”

The room nodded in silence. 

“Our friend in the funeral business, Skeeter. Some of ya know him. Some of ya don’t. Trusted friend of the club. He has Jax taken care of. I’ve spoken with Wendy, and we have decided on a closed-casket service. Proper club burial,” he said, getting choked at the end.

Rane propped and arm on Chibs’ shoulder. Chibs cleared his throat before continuing. 

“He’s bein’ buried beside the doc. We don’t have a stone yet, nor do we have plans for the service. I just know it has to be a private service. All of you here and a select few. Wendy and the boys. After the passed events, I cannot reach out to the other charters and send them an invitation, as Jax was no longer a Son when…when he left. Can anyone here think of anyone else to reach out to? Anyone who was a friend and would like to pay their respects?”

“The Grim Bastards I’m sure would be more than happy to ride with you,” T.O. said, “You know we had your back when he was Prez. They still will.”

Chibs nodded. 

“Give them a call, yeah?” 

T.O. nodded. 

“Anything special to put on his stone? I can arrange it with Skeeter,” Tig suggested. 

Chibs nodded. 

“He didn’t die a Son, or I would say get a Reaper on there, but make sure it says Son,” he replied. 

Tig nodded. 

“You bet.”

“Club will were their white and blue. Juicey and Cal, your black-outs. You two will ride ahead. Club will lead the procession. I don’t want any cops at this. Any fuckin’ Crow Eaters. No one except the people in this room now, the Bastards, Wendy, and Jax’s boys. Any others will stir trouble.”

The room nodded again. 

“You got it, brother,” Chucky spoke up. 

“We’ll get the flowers taken care of, Filip,” Venus said. 

Chibs nodded. 

“Any particular preacher? I can have that taken care of for you,” Nero said. 

“We have a friend of the club. Could you set it up?” Chibs asked. 

Nero nodded. 

“Absolutely.”

Chibs nodded. The room grew silent. Chibs fought to harden his expression, fight back his emotions. 

“I know everyone here loved Jackson. A few never met him, or didn’t know him that well. We know why he left, and what the conditions were, but he will always be a Son, and a brother. We must always keep him in our hearts.”

We nodded. 

“We’ll have a date and times soon,” he continued.

“If you need anything, let us know, mano,” Nero said. 

Chibs nodded. 

The meeting soon ended after things were arranged and questions asked, some answered, and some still waiting on an answer. Happy had the suggestion to head to Redwoody and have a drink in celebration of Jax’s life. Most of everyone agreed. Venus and Tig were going to go home, and Chibs was not going anywhere, and asked to be called only if it was a dire situation. The club agreed and understood, and by lunch time, the house was quiet again, with only Chibs and I left. 

“If you wanted to join them at the studio, ya can, darlin’. Don’t let me hold ya back,” Chibs said, walking into the kitchen, grabbing his pack of cigarettes from the table. 

“Meh. I didn’t know Jax. It’d be weird,” I replied. 

Besides, I was not leaving him alone like this. 

Chibs chuckled and walked out onto the back porch, lighting up. I wanted to follow him, but I wasn’t sure if he wanted company or not. Maybe he needed time to himself, and that was his nice way of saying it. 

“Unless you want me to,” I said. 

Chibs looked up at me in surprise. 

“No, Callie. That’s not what I meant. I just thought ya might want to get away from the cryin’ for a while,” he replied. 

I smiled and shook my head. 

“Seein’ me bein’ a weak little piece of shit,” he said bitterly. 

I sighed and stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

“You’re not weak. You loved him,” I said. 

Chibs flicked his ash and propped his hands against the railing of the porch, cigarette dangling lazily between two fingers. He cast a pensive look out onto his backyard. 

“Yeah,” he said weakly, “Just hard to be strong right now.”

I stepped onto the porch to stand beside him. 

“I know, but those boys are going to need you to be strong for them. Even if just for an hour,” I replied. 

Chibs smiled. 

“Aye,” he agreed. 

He then straightened up, flicked his cigarette, then turned to me. I said nothing as he held my jaw and watched me thoughtfully. He then gave me a small smile before pulling me into a hug.

“Then we can come back, cry and get drunk,” he said. 

I laughed and patted his back. 

“Sounds like a plan, Chibs.”

He chuckled at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think! Thanks for reading!


	16. I'll Make You Proud

_He knew it his mind it was cold out. Freezing. Hell, he could see frost on the grass! Too fucking cold, and too fucking early to be up, yet here he was. Sitting outside on the bank of the pond, the sun yet to come up, not necessarily warm, but numb. He couldn’t hear the sharp wind, or the water in front of him. He couldn’t even hear the sound of his own breathing or movements, and he wondered for a brief moment if he was dead._  
 _But then he turned to his side to see the man beside him, and it was like he suddenly remembered why he was here. Of course he wasn’t dead. He was simply spending time with the blonde man beside him, who was happily smoking a cigarette, dressed in a blue plaid shirt and a black leather cut. His little brother._  
 _Jax turned to look at Chibs, then cast a glance over his shoulder as he blew a stream of smoke from the corner of his mouth._  
  
 _“You hittin’ that?” he asked._  
  
 _Chibs looked over his shoulder to see the back porch lit, a figure smaller than he and Jax smoking a cigarette. He stared at Jax in shock before playfully shoving him._  
  
 _“Jesus Christ, no!” Chibs exclaimed._  
  
 _Jax laughed and flicked out his cigarette._  
  
 _“Not yet, anyway,” Jax said, Chibs unsure of whether it was a question or not._  
  
 _He stared at his brother in disbelief. Jax chuckled to himself._  
  
 _“Just friends. I get it,” Jax continued, “Taking all the right steps.”_  
  
 _Chibs watched Jax for a moment, trying to understand where his brother was going with this. Jax looked up, blue eyes locking with brown._  
  
 _“You have done everything right, Chibs. You have made more rights in these passed few months than I ever did. Maybe it was from watching all of my mistakes, but you have lived up to that President flash, and I’m proud of you.”_  
  
 _Chibs gave Jax a sad smile._  
  
 _“I promised you I would,” Chibs said._  
  
 _Jax smiled and clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder._  
  
 _“I know. And you did. I followed reason. Wrong reasons. Never once thought about how everyone else felt. You have, and you are. It’s safe to play it by heart now. I mean, Juice is still around. I would have blown that kid’s head off.”_  
  
 _Chibs smiled._  
  
 _“I can’t do that,” he said._  
  
 _“Exactly, brother. And looking back now, it was right. Your heart has all the answers. Mine was filled with stupidity. I’m surprised you never threatened to blow my head off. Club or not.”_  
  
 _Chibs laughed and glanced down at his boots._  
  
 _“I’ll admit. There were times I had the urge to kick your ass. Just didn’t feel like pullin’ stitches through your cheek,” he replied._  
  
 _Jax smiled. Chibs looked back up at Jax as he looked out onto the water with a look of serenity. Subconsciously, Chibs knew he was talking to…whatever he could call Jax now. Ghost, spirit, angel._  
  
 _“I miss you, Jackson,” he said._  
  
 _Jax looked back over to Chibs._  
  
 _“I miss you, too, Filip,” he said quietly._  
  
 _Chibs nodded, letting Jax’s voice fill his head._  
  
 _“Does it hurt?” Chibs asked quietly._  
  
 _Jax shook his head and smiled that smile Chibs would always hold in his heart. That boyish, shit-eating grin that normally meant trouble, and it was a road Chibs had always followed. Messy and reckless, but fun. Moments started by that smile that he would cherish forever._  
  
 _“Nah. Not when it’s time,” Jax replied._  
  
 _Chibs nodded. Jax suddenly turned serious and he nudged his arm to get his attention._  
  
 _“But it is not your time. You have a long way to go. Your mission is far from over.”_  
  
 _Chibs narrowed his eyes at Jax, not understanding, and wondering what his true purpose was._  
  
 _“How?” Chibs asked._  
  
 _Jax laughed._  
  
 _“I can’t tell you, bro. That’s for you to find out.”_  
  
 _Chibs’ heart fell. Jax stood up and straightened the tails of his shirt, dusting wet grass off._  
  
 _“But I can tell you this,” Jax said._  
  
 _Chibs looked up, renewed hope in his eyes. Jax gestured to the back of the house with a tilt of his head, pulling another cigarette out of his cut pocket._  
  
 _“You’re heading in the right direction,” he said, unlit smoke between his lips._  
  
 _Chibs looked back at the house to see the figure move back into the kitchen, and he suddenly understood._  
 _He looked back up at Jax._  
  
 _“I love you, Jackson,” he said._  
  
 _Jax smiled, taking the cigarette between his fingers._  
  
 _“I love you, too, Filip.”_  
  
 _Jax turned on his heel and walked around the pond, disappearing as the sun rose._  
  
***  
  
    It was enough to wake the dead.  
  
    That was the first thing to run through my mind as Juice and I stood protectively by, watching the procession pass. The low roaring and rumbling of each engine, the way the ground shook. It was like standing in a field to watch a tornado. I had never seen so many motorcycles in a cemetery, and regardless of the circumstances, it gave me goosebumps. Seeing seven of the Mother Charter lead the way for the hearse and family car, all in original cuts and sunglasses. It was far from sunny today. Cloud cover had left Charming windy and cold. Some of the crew wore their shades for a means of keeping up public appearance. Others, to hide. It gave the cool appearance of the parade of black machines and dark and heartbreaking undertone. As a middle schooler, I had an obsession with funerals and every other thing a goth kid liked. Now, I wanted to kick my own ass. There was nothing romantic about it. However, as the guys passed us, followed by the hearse, you could feel the love everyone in that procession shared—for each other and for the lost brother.  
    Chairs were lined up on one side of the grave, which most of us took. The crew, Brooke, and Venus stood on the opposite side. Chibs, Tig, Rane, Happy, Montez and Rat carried the gleaming black casket, a Reaper adorned on the lid, to the lift. Juice and I stood with Venus as we watched the guys set the casket down, and everyone left a white flower on the lid. The preacher stood by patiently while the flowers were being placed, and the guys eventually walked over to join the rest of us.  
  
“That sweet boy,” Venus whispered, holding a tissue to her mouth.  
  
    Tig held her waist, closed his eyes and nuzzled the side of her head.  
  
“I know, baby,” he said quietly.  
  
“Shit,” someone hissed.  
  
    We turned around to see Happy walking towards us after he deposited his flower, his focus on the road up the hill.  
  
“We got company,” he said.  
  
    Tig turned around to look. Happy held the VP’s shoulder and pointed. Tig pushed his shades down his nose and squinted to see. I looked up the hill and saw a dark gray SUV, a woman walking around the nose. She was small, lanky even, wearing tight blue jeans and scoop neck lavender shirt, her hair pulled up in a tight bun.  
  
“Shit,” Tig hissed.  
  
“Who is she?” I asked.  
  
“Sheriff Slut,” Happy said bluntly.  
  
    Tig removed his shades and cleaned the fingerprints off on the tail of his shirt.  
  
“We can’t let her get down here. If Chibs sees her, all hell is gonna break lose. We don’t need that, and he sure as shit doesn’t need it,” he replied.  
  
“Perfect timing,” Juice said bitterly.  
  
“I know,” Tig said sarcastically, placing his sunglasses back over his eyes.  
  
“Ex?” I asked.  
  
    Tig looked at me for a moment before approaching my and taking my arms.  
  
“No, baby. Just a poison,” he said, venom dripping off of his words as he cast a quick glance up the hill, “Hap, and Venus, sweetheart, you two keep a barrier between the cop and Chibs. Keep him distracted.”  
  
“Oh, yes we will,” Happy said enthusiastically.  
  
“Of course, baby,” Venus said.  
  
    Tig looked back down at me and took my face in his hands.  
  
“Hold him. Comfort him. Keep him close to you,” he said.  
  
    I nodded. Tig moved to my ear.  
  
“Protect him,” he whispered.  
  
    I nodded.  
  
“Absolutely,” I replied.  
  
    Tig kissed my forehead, then turned away.  
  
“Juice, follow me and standby. Rat, you’re with me,” he ordered.  
  
    Rat nodded, kissed Brooke, then followed Tig and Juice up the hill. Venus moved behind me and put her hands on my shoulders. I looked up to see Chibs set his flower down, murmuring something as he handled the wooden beads around his neck. He then walked over to us, removing his shades and let them rest around his neck.  
  
“I don’t know if I can take this, Callie,” he whispered.  
  
    I looked up at him to see tears in his eyes. Since the day of the meeting, he had been okay. Quiet, but no tears that I knew of, and he kept close to me and Tig. He had kept a temporary bandaid on the wound, and it was now blown off with the wind.  
    I took his arm and placed my head on the leather sleeve.  
  
“I know,” I said quietly, “I’m gonna take it with you.”  
  
    Chibs sniffed and buried his face in the top of my head. He was shaking like a leaf. I held his arm tightly. His strength was gone, and as he gave up and turned to wrap his arms around me, hiding his face in my hair so no one else could see, I embraced him tightly. I would be his strength today.  
    When he composed himself and straightened up again, facing the casket, Venus took his other arm.  
  
“We got you, darlin’.”  
  
    Chibs sniffed and gave us a small smile.  
***  
      
    Tig felt heat in his palms, which spread like wildfire through his arms and into his heart as he neared the woman at the top of the hill. It was heat of anger. Heat of hate. The heat that so often clouded his reason and caused him to kill. He would have no remorse if this woman pushed him to shoot her between the eyes. However, he had enough sense to not do that here.  
    Juice stood and kept a watchful eye from a distance, marking the halfway point between the road and the funeral. Ratboy stayed right by Tig’s side, a similar sensation of hatred in his heart. No one in SAMCRO liked this woman. No one in SAMCRO even liked cops. Especially dirty cops. Cops that thought they could get whatever they wanted out of the club. Cops that tried to manipulate their minds. Warp them. Cops that think too much. Cops that thought they could break Juice. Cops that thought Chibs was just dumb enough. The only dumb one in that situation, was a crooked cop who thought she knew what she was doing. Confused, immature, wrong side of the tracks.  
  
“You have a lot of balls showing your face here,” Tig growled.  
  
    The woman shifted, keeping her expression hard and cold, though clearly uncomfortable underneath the gaze of the VP.  
  
“I just came to give my condolences,” she said, voice a little unsure, and Tig liked the look of fear in her eyes.  
  
“Why do you give a shit?” Ratboy snapped.  
  
    Tig held his hand up, backing the younger man off who ready to jump.  
  
“This is a private service, Sheriff,” Tig said.  
  
“It’s just Althea now,” she said.  
  
    Tig raised an eyebrow at her. The sheriff they knew as Miss Althea Jarry cleared her throat.  
  
“I’m leaving law enforcement. At least, for now. Got a job offer in Sacramento. I was on my way there now. Thought I’d drop by. Pay my respects,” she said.  
  
    Tig stared at Althea, absolutely appalled.  
  
“Bullshit! You get back in your vehicle and march your ass to Sacremento. You ain’t welcome here.”  
  
    Althea held her ground, crossing her arms over her chest and giving Tig a cold, hard stare. Tig rushed her, getting right in her personal space. It made her flinch, and that was enough satisfaction for Tig.  
  
“You fucked him up. Used him. Thought you could flirt and use him for sex, then stepped over the line. He never had feelings for you,” Tig said lowly.  
  
“He—“  
  
“Quinn told me everything! He was there. Your little trust building scheme? Getting information back in forth through a cop who will play dirty? That was his mission. Gaining and keeping your trust. He had to do what he had to do, unfortunately under the power of your gaping pussy. He warned you. He told you to get lost, and yet, here you are. Trying to strike when he’s vulnerable. Let me tell ya something. You’re not getting through me and Rat, and if so, you’re definitely not getting passed Juice.”  
  
    Althea peered around Ratboy’s shoulder to see the Scout watching her, looking like a security guard in his sunglasses.  
  
“You are a selfish bitch. We are putting our brother in the ground today, and you show up to stir up some drama. Were you even aware you were fucking a, at the time, married man?” Tig hissed.  
  
    Althea shuddered, and for a moment was at a loss for words.  
  
“Um, no. No, I was not,” she finally answered.  
  
“No, of course not,” Tig said, putting his hands on his hips, “You only cared about yourself, and don’t you even start by saying you were serving this town. You played dirty, and you lost.”  
  
    Althea visibly swallowed, his words beginning to smart. Tig was ready to bat and hit a home run.  
  
“Now, I suggest you get the hell out of here, because if his Old Lady catches wind of you,” he said.  
  
    Althea’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened. Tig almost laughed. Althea peered around them to see Chibs behind a bald man she knew to be called Happy, a tall woman to his right, and another on his arm to the left. Tig looked to see Callie holding onto Chibs and laying her head on his shoulder and smiled.  
  
“She will rip your fucking throat out,” he said, turning back to Althea.  
  
    Hurt and jealousy swept over Althea. Tig knew his words were evil. He was hitting below the belt when he had almost nothing personal against her. Except for the fact she messed around with his brother. He was protecting Chibs, as well as Callie. His brother, and the woman he saw as his daughter. He knew were their hearts lay, and an old scab threatening to be ripped away at a time like this? He had no remorse for anything that flew out of his mouth.  
  
“Who is she?” Althea asked, “Some Crow Eater? Pornstar?”  
  
    Tig was outraged, and he wanted to throw the woman against the car with the knife attached to his leg at her neck. This was the dirty cop he remembered, kicking below the belt and playing along.  
  
“Full Patch!” Ratboy spat.  
  
    Tig looked at Ratboy in surprise, not expecting his answer, or his deadly tone. Something had snapped in the boy, and he was thoroughly impressed.  
  
“Yeah!” Tig agreed.  
  
“Well,” was all Althea had to say.  
  
    Tig tapped his hand on the hood of the SUV.  
  
“Get back in your car and take off and don’t you dare show your face around here again,” he said.  
  
    Althea did not move. Tig narrowed his eyes at her.  
  
“If you find yourself at the end of her gun, don’t say we didn’t tell you so,” he threatened.  
  
    With that, Tig and Ratboy moved back down the hill. Juice stayed in his place, protecting his brothers and sisters.  
  
***  
  
    The service was beautiful. Everything everyone had to say made someone who wasn’t crying cry, and those who were crying, cry harder. I never knew Jax, but when I saw Abel and Thomas, and Chibs hold Thomas in one arm and Abel by the hand while Wendy spoke, I lost it. It was seeing those boys that got to me. Both of them without a father. One without a mother. It reminded me of when I lost my parents. Shooting in the library. Two thugs ran in to escape the cops. My parents were teachers, holding an after school class for one of the school clubs. They died protecting those kids. I came home to Zero waiting on my porch, ushering me back to his house so his parents could break the news to me. Abel had an idea of what was going on, but really, neither brother knew what was happening. They were too young to understand and deal with that heartbreak. I wished I had been so lucky sometimes.  
  
“You want a tissue, sugar?” Venus asked.  
  
    I nodded.  
  
    Venus produced a packet of travel tissues from her purse and handed one to me. I thanked her and wiped my nose.  
    Wendy came back and thanked Chibs for holding them. The casket was being lowered into the ground now, and everyone was standing, hugging and preparing to leave.  
  
“You alright, sweetheart?” Chibs murmured.  
  
    I nodded and smiled at him. He smiled and gripped the back of my neck.  
  
“Are you?” I asked.  
  
“Yeah,” he said gruffly.  
  
    Wendy moved in front of us.  
  
“Hey,” she said.  
  
“Hey, darlin’,” Chibs replied.  
  
“Listen. I just wanted to thank you. For everything. I mean, this is beautiful,” she said.  
  
    Chibs smiled.  
  
“You’re welcome,” he replied.  
  
    Wendy nodded and her eyes fell upon me. Chibs gripped my shoulders.  
  
“New Prospect,” he said to her.  
  
    Wendy nodded and smiled. I shook her hand.  
  
“Callie Shepherd,” I said.  
  
    Wendy smiled.  
  
“Wendy Case,” she replied.  
  
    Juice swept by us and grabbed Chibs’ attention.  
  
“Have you known the guys long?” she asked curiously.  
  
    I smiled and shook my head.  
  
“Uh, no. Crash-landed here a while back. The guys took me in,” I replied, “They liked that I could ride and shoot. Chibs offered me a spot.”  
  
    Wendy nodded, still a little unsure of me.  
  
“I wasn’t a Crow Eater or anything. Used to be with a club in SoCal,” I explained.  
  
    Wendy smiled.  
  
“Oh, okay. Okay. Sons? I know there’s a charter down there,” she said.  
  
    I shook my head.  
  
“Different club,” I replied.  
  
“Oh okay. Well, what brought you this way?” she asked.  
  
    I shrugged.  
  
“My Old Man passed away. Needed to escape,” I said.  
  
    Wendy frowned.  
  
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she replied.  
  
    I nodded.  
  
“I’m sorry about Jax,” I said, “I know these boys loved him.”  
  
    Wendy smiled and nodded.  
  
“Yeah. Thank-you,” she said.  
  
    Chibs moved back over to us.  
  
“Anythin’ ya need, darlin’, ya call, ‘kay?” he said.  
  
    Wendy smiled and nodded.  
  
“I will, thanks,” she replied, then took Abel’s hand, said her goodbyes and rejoined Nero.  
  
    Chibs and I watched her leave.  
  
“Those boys are cute,” I said.  
  
    Chibs chuckled. I looked up at him and smiled.  
  
“You don’t wanna babysit?” I asked.  
  
    Chibs snorted, blowing his cheeks out.  
  
“Ya kiddin’ me?” he asked.  
  
    I laughed.  
  
“Ah, shit!” Tig growled.  
  
    He rushed Chibs and attempted to grab his cut and keep him facing forward, but it was too late.  
  
“Brother, hang on,” Tig said.  
  
    Chibs casually glanced around. It didn’t take maybe two seconds before his eyes locked on the gray SUV at the top of the hill and his eyes turned deadly. Tig grabbed the President’s shoulders.  
  
“What is that gash doin’ here?” he growled, cutting his eyes at Tig.  
  
“Chibs, I’m sorry, man. I tried to run her off,” he said.  
  
“She was clearly warned,” Rat spoke up.  
  
    Chibs gritted his teeth.  
  
“Has she been here this whole time?” he asked.  
  
    Tig winced and nodded. Chibs exhaled angrily and put his hands on his hips.  
  
“That bitch,” he growled.  
  
“And there’s only one way to combat a bitch, sweetie,” Venus said.  
  
    We all looked to see a devilish smirk on her face.  
  
“Baby, don’t get into this,” Tig said to her.  
  
    Venus grinned.  
  
“Baby, that scrawny little girl ain’t got nothing on me. I’m 6’ 1” in heels and I can hang her by her toes. She thinks she can mess with our sweet Filip? I will kick that corncob even farther up her bony ass.”  
  
    We laughed at that. Venus leaned over and cupped Chibs’ cheeks.  
  
“This is a job for the girls. Protecting our boys,” she said.  
  
    Chibs smiled as Venus placed her designer sunglasses over her eyes and strolled up the hill. Chibs nudged me.  
  
“Come on. Might need ya to give that uptight gash a good spook,” he said playfully.  
  
    I laughed at that, and he signaled for me to follow him, leading me up the hill at an angle, several yards behind the SUV.  
  
“Who is she?” I asked.  
  
    Chibs reached into his breast pocket and produced a pack of smoke and a lighter.  
  
“Sheriff Althea Jarry. Took over after we lost our last sheriff. Fresh off the rack. All business. Threatened to stir up a shitstorm with the club,” he said, lighting his cigarette, “She was assigned to Tara’s murder case. Kept gettin’ on the trails we didn’t need cops followin’. Jax suggested we get her on our payroll, keep her off those trails. I met up with her. Told her our conditions and made an agreement. Strictly business. She had other things in mind.”  
  
    We walked out onto the gravel drive and to his bike. He leaned against it, watching as Venus spoke to the sheriff through her driver’s side window. I leaned up beside him and looked down. When I did, I saw the pack of cigarettes and a neon pink lighter in his hands.  
  
“That better not be my lighter, Chibs,” I warned him.  
  
    Chibs looked at me and smirked.  
  
“And if it is?” he asked.  
  
    I reached down and slipped the cheap dollar store lighter out of his hold before he could react. To prove it was mine, I pointed to the name written in permanent marker, which by now was nearly worn off.  
  
“That doesn’t mean shit!” he said.  
  
    I stole one of his cigarettes from the pack and lit it.  
  
“I’ll get you a new lighter, asshole. Calm down,” I said around the cigarette.  
  
    Chibs leaned over and playfully nudged me.  
  
“Meh. Don’t worry about it. I just like givin’ ya shit,” he said.  
  
    I snorted and blew a stream of smoke out of my mouth. I looked back over to the SUV, Venus pointing fingers at this Althea chick and giving her a what-for.  
  
“What happened with her?” I asked.  
  
    Chibs finished his cigarette and stomped it into the gravel with his boot.  
  
“Sort of ‘friends with benefits’ type thing,” he replied.  
  
    I nodded slowly. Right.  
  
“And not to say she wasn’t a good person, but she brought a lot of drama to the table that in the end, I just couldn’t handle. The shit with the club and Jackie…besides that, our occupations gave us no foundation to build any sort of relationship on. I wasn’t lookin’ for that kinda thing anyway. I mean, I was still married at the time. Sex is one thing, but she had these demands. Puttin’ me on the spot. In the end, she was a cop, and it was too dangerous. Besides that, she could be a total bitch. Thought she could get her way all the time. Probably thought I was an idiot. Maybe I was too nice to her, but unless you’re a stupid whore, I don’t feel like bein’ a dick. I’m not like that.”  
  
    I nodded.  
  
“Sounds like she might have had a little bad boy biker fantasy,” I said.  
  
    Chibs smiled.  
  
“Maybe my Scottish charm?” he asked.  
  
    I laughed and nudged him.  
  
“Couldn’t have been the accent. No one ever understands a damn thing I say,” he spat.  
  
    I threw my head back and laughed. That was true.  
  
“Shut the fuck up, ya little shite!” he playfully growled, swatting my shoulder.  
  
    When our laughter died, we could hear Venus’ voice carry with the wind.  
  
“I don’t care,” Venus said, “Don’t say we didn’t tell you so.”  
  
“I’m glad she was never my wife. Can ya imagine?” Chibs asked.  
  
    I smiled.  
  
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” I heard Althea spit back.  
  
    Chibs sighed heavily. I could tell this was troubling him. His fingers were twitching, his eyes set upon the back of the SUV, his face grim. There was nothing in his eyes but cold, bitter contempt. Whatever she had said or done had fucked him up, and on a day like today, after days of trying to find a happy place in the wake of his dearly departed friend and brother, this was the last thing he needed. Days of curling up on the couch, bottles of alcohol and shot glasses spread all over the table. I had only let him get good and shit-faced one night, for I knew he needed it, but after that, he hardly left the couch. One night, I stayed with him on that couch, and he spoke of Jax for hours, and what was not about Jax was about his love for the club and its future. Not one story was about Althea, and from the look in his eyes now, I knew those feelings were long dead.  
    The SUV started, and I stood up. I wondered if this woman might do something stupid out of rage. Back over us, in which case, I was ready to blow out her rear tires, or turn around and try to drive her way into a conversation. Whatever case, I stood up, walked a ways ahead, and waited, my hand ready to grab my gun, prepared to not only do my duty and protect my President, but keep a world of hurt away from my best friend.  
    The brake lights lit up, and Venus backed away, a smile of victory on her face. She waved to Althea and put her hands on her hips. I saw Althea look in the rearview mirror, and shudder when her eyes connected with mine. I watched her jaw set, eyes go cold, and she put the SUV in drive and slowly pulled forward. I stood my ground until I watched the SUV leave out of the side gate.  
  
“Easy now, sweetheart. It’s done,” Chibs said.  
  
    I backed down and turned around. He had his around crossed, a cheesy grin on his face.  
  
“Gettin’ fierce now, are we?” he asked.  
  
    I rolled my eyes.  
  
“What if she decides to show up at the house?” I asked.  
  
    Chibs raised his eyebrows.  
  
“She doesn’t know where I live,” he said.  
  
    He straightened up and walked over to me.  
  
“And even if she did, I would love to see the look on her face when she discovers some hot biker chick is livin’ with me,” he said.  
  
    My cheeks burned and I knew I had to be red. Chibs laughter confirmed it. I swatted his shoulder and stormed away from him. He was a shithead, and did it to get a rise out of me, but it still had my thoughts racing back to a certain dream, and not to mention making it harder to hide that I liked him.  
  
“Bastard,” I said, lovingly of course.  
  
    Chibs grinned and patted my arm, his hand making a clapping noise against the leather.  
  
“Come on. Let’s get out of this cold shit and head to the bar. Grab a bite. Drink for Jax,” he said.  
  
    I nodded. I really didn’t want to drink, even though I was hungry. Besides that, I made it a point to give back to Chibs, since he let me live with him for free. He needed a few groceries, and I wanted to make it up to him.  
  
“Sure. Mind if I cut out after I eat, though? I mean no disrespect to Jax or anything, but I have some errands to run. I can meet you back at the house. Unless there’s some club business to take care of?”  
  
    Chibs looked a little puzzled as we walked back to his bike.  
  
“Aye. I don’t mind. I needed to run and get a pack of beer this evening. Ya sure ya don’t wanna wait?” he asked.  
  
    I shrugged.  
  
“It’ll probably take me all afternoon. Personal stuff. Bike stuff. Besides, I kind of need to get some clothes shopping done,” I said.  
  
    Chibs’ eyes widened.  
  
“You go right ahead, sweetheart,” he said.  
  
    I laughed at that. No guy (unless you get technical and count Venus) that I knew liked clothes shopping. Hell, even I hated it! However, I couldn’t borrow Chibs’ hoodie forever.  
  
“Cool, thanks,” I replied.  
  
    Chibs nodded and looked back down the hill. I stopped walking in my journey to my bike and looked down the hill. The grave was now filled with fresh soil and topped with flowers.  
  
“Goodbye, brother,” Chibs said, “I promise I’ll make you proud.”  
  
    I smiled, even though I felt like I had been stabbed in the gut.  
  
    Chibs grabbed his helmet and I walked back down to my bike where Juice was waiting. Chibs started his bike, and the club began to pull out one by one, following our brothers out onto the road, somehow after this, bonded even closer.  
  
***  
  
    When Chibs returned home, he found Callie missing, but evidence that she had been by since lunch. He noticed the smell of laundry detergent in the air and could hear both the washing machine and dishwasher running. When he entered the living room, it was spotless. The floor had been swept, the rug straightened and vacuumed, all of the pillows put back on the couch and recliners and any trash or dishes that had been left behind cleaned up. Hell, she had even changed the lightbulb in the foyer, which had been out for months, and out of habit flicked on all the time. When the hall lit up, he nearly had a heart-attack.  
    The kitchen had been cleaned, dishes put away or currently being washed. Counter and table top cleaned and shining, as well as the floor. His pile of papers he never bothered to organize now straightened. He never kept a messy house, of course, and had always cleaned up after himself, but since the news of Jax’s accident, he hadn’t even thought about it. He knew Callie was his house-cleaning fairy, and he smiled in appreciation. He was sure he would find the bathroom clean, all the trash taken out, and maybe even the always messy utility room cleaned up. He didn’t need to check. He was pleased as hell with what he was seeing now. He knew she wasn’t sucking up. She was being a polite houseguest, and on top of that, a good friend. He wouldn’t trade that for anything.  
    Chibs didn’t dare grab the clean glass ashtray from the drainer, which he found she had even taken the time to clean that. Instead, he moved out to the back porch and had a smoke. He leaned against the railing took a drag, and looked to the pond. His dream from the night before rushed back, and for a brief moment, he wanted to cry for what felt like the millionth time in the passed four days. Seeing Jax again, hearing him and seeing him in such vivid detail, was like he never left. Chibs had dreams and nightmares. Nightmares, mostly. He never remembered them after the first ten minutes of consciousness, but he remembered this one well. He made it a point to remember this one. Had his superstitions, being raised in a religious setting and his own personal set of beliefs. He had no doubt spirits were real. He heard Opie’s voice a lot those first few weeks out. Sometimes he swore he heard Piney when they were at the cabin. He even swore he saw Half-Sack once in the clubhouse before its demise. He believed what he saw was real, and had no doubt that his dream about Jax, which just so happened to occur the night before the funeral, was a visit.  
    He couldn’t shake what Jax had said. That he was making the right decisions—the right moves. He knew he had turned the club around in the right direction, and since he had sewn his President flash to his cut, it had remained that way, but there was something more there. Something in that crooked smile of Jax’s. His was told that his mission was far from over, and Jax gestured to the house when he had said that Chibs was moving in the right direction. He never saw the face of the figure on his porch in the dream, but he could not mistake that head of black hair, short unruly pieces sticking up of their own freewill. Callie.  
    Chibs had felt like he was walking a tightrope since Damon Pope came into the club’s lives and burned Tig’s daughter, Dawn, alive in the train yard. Tiptoeing on the thin bridges, faithfully following Jax. He always saw roads wider and safer, and watched them shrink in the distance when Jax put his fist down. He had tried to tell his brother that balancing like they had was not a good idea, but with all the secrets the former President had kept, the definite rights and wrongs blended and blurred, and Chibs found himself directionless. Now, everything was clear. The answers were in front of him like the highway from on top of his speeding Dyna. Things were easier. Simpler. He found the road he knew was for him and his club, and led them down it. The road beside it, his own personal road, was finding the right things for him. He believed that in doing what was right and fixing the wrongs, new doors opened.  
    Everything had happened for a reason, and now that he knew he still had something ahead of him, the things that were happening now were things he was more than thankful for. One, being Callie. For protecting him and his brothers with a fierceness that could rival a late Queen of SAMCRO. For being a little light in his life. For being his strength when he thought he going to crumble at the cemetery. For never asking hardly anything of him. No demands. No drama. She was straight, loyal, exceedingly kind, and there for him. Everyone was human to her. Club shit was never applied to anyone. Everyone was treated as an individual. He loved that.  
  
***  
  
    When I returned to the house and unloaded today’s finds, I got a taste of what Santa Claus felt like carrying a giant bag of toys. Just replace the fat man with my short ass and the sack of toys with six sacks of groceries and a brand new hoodie and belt draped over a shoulder. It made me miss having a car, I’ll say that much. Carrying the weight of groceries on your back because it’s freezing out and you’re too lazy to make more trips made realize I needed to work out, and that the fictional holiday figure had a spine of steel.  
    I kicked and wriggled my way through the side door, making a hell of a noise from all of the plastic bags, and slipped inside the hallway, toting my bags to the kitchen in a hurry to relieve my cramping back. The lights were on, and I could the sound of clinking plates as I rounded the corner and dumped the bags on the table. Chibs was over the stove, putting away the dishes I had washed when I had returned to change shirts after spilling ketchup on my shirt at lunch. My laundry had been filthy, so I grabbed some to wash it and cleaned up a little while I waited. Besides, the house needed it desperately.  
  
“What’s all this shit?” Chibs asked in surprise.  
  
    I leaned on the closest chair to catch my back and wait for the knots in my back to unwind.  
  
“Groceries,” I breathed out.  
  
    Chibs put up a piece of silverware and walked over to the table. He pulled open a bag with one finger and peered inside, his jaw falling as he saw the contents, and checked the others.  
  
“You bought all of this yourself?” he asked.  
  
    I bit my lip.  
  
“You were out of frozen corndogs,” I replied sheepishly.  
  
    Chibs cracked a smile.  
  
“Jesus Christ, Callie!”  
  
“Well, you were! Besides, I needed to get a few things, and I used up the last of the toilet paper, so I decided to go ahead and pick up some stuff. Restock,” I replied.  
  
    I reached into a bag and pulled out a pick of eight toilet paper rolls. Chibs just shook his head.  
  
“How the hell did ya even fit all this into your bike?” he asked.  
      
    I smirked and wriggled my fingers.  
  
“Meticulous organization skills,” I said.  
  
    Chibs snorted.  
  
“Yeah, I noticed that when I came home,” he replied.  
  
    I laughed.  
  
“Well, the dishes were funky. The living room was trashed. And you left a pile of something vile in your laundry, so I threw it in the washing machine,” I said.  
  
    Chibs laughed at that.  
  
“You’re a regular little housekeeper,” he commented.  
  
    I picked a jug of milk out of a bag and a tub of butter and took them to the fridge.  
  
“I ain’t folding your clothes for you,” I said sassily.  
  
    Chibs just laughed and moved around me with a couple of boxes that were to go in the cabinets.  
  
“How much was all of this?” he asked.  
  
    I closed the refrigerator door and waved him off.  
  
“Don’t worry about it. You’re letting me stay here. I had to do something in return,” I replied.  
  
“Callie, come on,” he said.  
  
    I reached into a bag and tossed him a roll of paper towels. He caught it and I grabbed a few boxes for the freezer.  
  
“Forget it. Keep your money, Chibs,” I said.  
  
    Chibs stared at me as I walked by, but he didn’t argue anymore.  
  
“By the way,” I said.  
  
    I threw the TV dinners in the freezer and returned to the table, grabbing the messenger bag that had been tossed with the groceries. I pulled the flap back and reached in to grab a heavy item inside of a small plastic bag.  
  
“Got you something,” I said.  
  
    Chibs tilted his head to the side as I handed him the item before unloading the other crap I had picked up in my travels, including two different Charming real estate catalogues. Chibs pulled his little gift out of the bag and stared in shock. I smiled at him.  
  
“I told you I’d get you one,” I said.  
  
    The gift, if you could call it that, was a new Zippo lighter with the Harley Davidson logo on it. It was the only one the store had left that didn’t look stupid, and you can’t go wrong in gifting a Harley Zippo to a biker.  
  
“Callie, holy shit! Ya didn’t have to do that, sweetheart,” he said.  
  
    I smiled.  
  
“Don’t loose it.”  
  
    Chibs smiled, then reached over to hug me.  
  
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said.  
  
“Welcome.”  
  
    Chibs pulled back and looked down at the table, spotting the catalogues. He placed his hand on one to spin it to read the front.  
  
“Been doin’ a little house huntin’?” he asked.  
  
    I sighed and nodded.  
  
“Yeah, I’ve been trying to get back on that. It’s a pain in the ass,” I replied.  
  
“Aye. And dealin’ with this shit here ain’t easy. Bunch of corrupt politicians behind real estate. Besides that, not easy finding a place off the grid. Only way to really stay safe.”  
  
    I sighed and nodded. Chibs pulled his new lighter out of the packaging and sat down at the table. He lit it for the first time, smiled and then shut it.  
  
“You don’t have to go, ya know?” he said.  
  
    I stared at him in surprise.  
  
“What? You’ll miss your maid?” I asked sarcastically.  
  
    Chibs propped his arms on the table and set the lighter aside.  
  
“It’s nice not bein’ alone all the time,” he said.  
  
    I felt my face fall with my heart.  
  
“The peace is nice, but the quiet isn’t quiet. It’s loud as hell, and I’m tellin’ ya Callie, if you hadn’t been here through all this…”  
  
    He trailed off and rolled up the sleeve of his black shirt, pointing to his scars.  
  
“There’s no doubt this would happen again,” he finished.  
  
    I sighed, my eyes locking with the criss-cross patterns.  
  
“Chibs,” I said quietly.  
  
    He leaned forward, ringed fingers taking my hands. He looked up at me, big brown eyes giving me that puppy dog look that most used to their advantage. Chibs meant it.  
  
“Stay,” he said quietly.  
  
    He didn’t have to ask twice. I took a moment of thought, but only a few seconds before nodding.  
  
“Okay,” I replied.  
  
    Chibs stood up and pulled me into a hug.  
  
“I couldn’t have done this without ya, sweetheart,” he asked, “Thank you.”  
  
    I hugged him tightly, my mouth and nose pressed into his shoulder, my eyes being the only thing higher than his shoulder.  
  
“You’re welcome, Chibs,” I said, my voice muffled against his collarbone.  
  
    He gave me a gentle squeeze before we parted.  
  
“Come on. Let’s get these things put up and go watch whatever shite they’re showin’ on TV,” he said.  
  
    I laughed and agreed. He helped me finish putting the groceries up before we moved to the living room, watching an old black and white movie, me on the couch and him in his recliner talking about everything and nothing. They day had been brutal. Hell, the week had been brutal, but seeing Chibs smile, and even laugh—seeing him happy again made me happy, and during this quiet time, nothing else mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought!


	17. Rat Poison

Scoops Ice Cream & Sweets. According to the guys, it was a little shop in downtown Charming that everyone frequented as a kid. A Charming staple. Classic 1950’s setting where kids could come and get a scoop of ice cream or a shake. Parents gladly lending them another quarter for a giant gumball. Teens would come in for a date, and the delinquent children would slip in and steal candy. It was long gone now. Downtown’s Mom and Pop businesses long vacant. Scoops had been inhabited by the club as a temporary clubhouse after theirs was burned to the ground. However, after the Chinese threw a grenade through the window, and they set up shop at Redwoody, the place was in dire need of either full restoration, or complete demolition.   
As we walked through the front door, most of the windows boarding up and the floor destroyed from where the grenade had gone off, I could see the history, and unfortunately, the money. Not only that, but a severe lack of space. 

“Jesus,” Juice whispered as we walked in. 

“What the hell happened in here?” T.O. asked. 

He had not been a part of the Sons at the time. 

“Bomb,” Chibs replied. 

“Those Chinese bastards,” Happy elaborated. 

T.O. nodded. 

“Oh yeah! I remember that,” he said. 

“It’s a shithole now,” Tig said, sitting on one of the few stools that had not been damaged. 

“Aye,” Chibs agreed, leaning over to pull an old sconce that was hanging by a wire.

It popped off effortlessly. Chibs rolled his eyes and tossed the piece of brass on a table. 

“No wonder Jackie boy got it for nothin’,” he said, wiping his fingers on his jeans, “Almost not even worth it to fix it up.”

“Floor alone looks like it’ll be a money hole,” Rane said. 

Chibs nodded in agreement and put his hands on his hips. 

“Aye. Club doesn’t have that kind of money. I sure as shit don’t. Not at the moment, anyway,” he replied. 

I bit my lip. I knew why he was tapped out, too. 

“Well, brother, the top floor is still good. We can work up there until we can get on this one,” Tig said. 

“Doesn’t leave much room, though,” Happy said, “And this place doesn’t have all the amenities we need. Especially if we patch in new people.”

Chibs sighed. I looked down in deep thought. 

“We lost our permits to rebuild at TM, and even if we could, Wendy owns it now. We can’t do shit,” Tig said. 

“And we still need that front,” Rat said, “No one’s gonna fall for a SAMCRO Dairy Queen.”

Chibs groaned. I stared absently at the floor, a lightbulb going off in my head. Teller-Morrow Automotive was not the prettiest of buildings. I mean, coming in either way, you see the destroyed clubhouse. The garage itself is stuck in the 60’s, though that has no effect on the quality of business. These boys knew their shit. However, it was located in a bad neighborhood, and I’m sure its history would scare even the most rigid of buyers. It wasn’t going to bring in much for Wendy. I knew that she definitely needed the money, but Scoops was not going to work out. The boys needed that front, but they also needed the room. TM may look like a shithole, but the lot alone was gold. Nine bikes out in the open on Main Street sounded like a horrible idea. 

“What if I bought TM from Wendy?” I asked. 

All eight men turned to me, their looks varying from surprise to confusion. 

“What are you talking about, sweetheart?” Tig asked. 

“What if I took TM off her hands? Offer her more than what it’s worth? It’ll help her in taking care of the boys, and you guys keep your front. Besides, we need that garage. I’ll buy it back and have someone come out and look at the clubhouse. Rebuild it,” I suggested. 

“Holy shit!” Juice exclaimed, “You’d do that for us?”

I shrugged. 

“Of course,” I replied. 

“Where the hell are you gonna get that kind of money, Callie?” Tig asked. 

“I have it.”

“Callie,” Chibs spoke up, “You don’t have to use your savings on us.”

“Why not? I’m not using it,” I replied. 

“We don’t want to tap out your stash, baby girl,” Tig said. 

“Unless you decide to build the clubhouse out of crystal and marble, it’s not gonna make much of a dent. Trust me.”

A smile slowly formed on Tig’s face.

“You’d really consider doing that for us?” he asked. 

I nodded shyly. 

“You guys are my brothers. My family, now. It’s what family does,” I replied. 

Happy shot over to me and held his hands up, offering a double high-five. I laughed and high-fived him. 

“I knew I liked this kid!” he said. 

Tig’s cell phone rang, and he stood up and walked out the door to answer it. Chibs approached me and took my by the shoulders. 

“Ya don’t have to do this for us. That’s a lot of cash,” he said. 

“How much did you spend on my bike?” I asked. 

Chibs clenched his teeth. 

“Callie…”

“I’m giving back to the club,” I said, “So long as Wendy says yes.”

Chibs smiled. 

“You’re an angel,” he said, “But I’m not lettin’ ya pay for all of it.”

I laughed. 

“Yes you are!” 

Chibs opened his mouth to argue when Tig poked his head back inside. 

“It’s Nero. We gotta go,” he said. 

We all exchanged glances before Chibs signalled to the door.

“Let’s head out,” he said. 

With that, we followed in step behind him and headed back to our bikes. 

***

“For the passed two nights, I’ve had someone on a bike follow me home. The passed by, but it just seemed a little suspicious, ya know?” Nero asked. 

We were back at Redwoody, sitting around the table, a distressed Nero Padilla sitting next to Chibs. 

“Well I can assure ya, it wasn’t us,” Chibs said. 

Nero held a hand up. 

“No, I know. I spoke with Álvarez. Not Mayan, either. So, unless it’s some outside source from somewhere else, I don’t know who it is. Ain’t my crew,” he explained. 

“Why would someone be stalking you?” Tig asked. 

Nero shrugged. 

“I noticed that they started following me about halfway between here and Norco. Must have trailed me from Diosa. I ran by there to check in after that explosion with those kids.”

“That’s in Stockton. Why the hell would someone follow ya all the way to Norco? Lotta miles,” Chibs said. 

Nero shrugged. 

“It’s weird, mano. I wouldn’t have come back up here and bother you guys with it, but last night, after getting followed again, I heard something outside. It’s a farm, so I dismissed it, you know? Could have been anything. Checked it out this morning. Let me tell you, it’s not deer.”

“You think someone’s out there fucking around with your shit? Searching for something?” Tig asked. 

“I’m not sure,” Nero replied, “But those are my suspicions.”

Chibs nodded. 

“I need your help. I know you guys have your own shit, but it makes me nervous. Wendy brings the boys sometimes. I don’t want this shit happening when they’re there, you know?”

“No, we understand,” Chibs said, then leaned forward and took hold of Nero’s wrist, “We’ll take care of it, brother.”

Nero nodded. 

“Thank-you. If someone is out there, they’re doing it in the dark,” he said. 

Chibs nodded and looked over us. 

“Stakeout,” he said. 

We nodded. 

“‘Kay, but look,” Nero said, “It’s all flat land out there. No hiding spots except around the perimeter. You’re gonna need some long-range weapons.”

Chibs shot a look a me. 

“We can do that,” he said. 

I shifted uncomfortably. Chibs had an idea. I could see the light in his eyes. He had a plan, and the slight look of mischief on his face meant trouble. He seldom had that look.   
Nero thanked Chibs for the help, and hugged him before leaving. Chibs waited until Nero shut the door before speaking. 

“Right. If we’re gonna do this, we gotta hit the road now,” he said, then looked down the table to me, “This sounds like it’s a job for our little sniper.”

My eyes widened. 

“Really?” I asked. 

“We saw how you shot that snake,” Tig said. 

“Besides that, I wanna see ya in action,” Chibs said, “What do ya say?”

I smiled. 

“I say we head out and go deer hunting,” I replied. 

Chibs laughed at that. 

“‘Kay. Then you, Tig and Hap. Grab some gear. Get into your camouflage. We need to head out if we want to make it to Norco by dark. The rest of ya, head back to TM.”

We agreed, and Chibs slammed the gavel down before we stood up. I was excited. This would be the first time since the shit at Diosa that I was able to go on a run, and a part of me wanted to show out a little. Anything to serve these guys, live up to my current patches, and earn that full patch.   
***

“I’m fucking freezing. My dick has shriveled to the point of unusable,” Tig complained. 

I turned my focus away from the barn below and shot him a look. We were out at Nero’s farm in Norco. It was late at night, and dark, save for the light of the full moon. Tig, Chibs and I had found a hill on the west side of the property, which made a perfect vantage point to pick off anything crossing over to the barn or the house. Tig and I were ducked down in some brush, while Chibs had climbed into a tree. Happy was down in the field, carefully hidden in an old piece of rusting farm equipment, being our eyes on the ground. It was cold as shit out. A cold spell had taken over northern Cali, and the northernmost part of the state had experienced snow flurries. We had dressed warmly for this, all black, but even I found myself shaking. It didn’t help that we had to remain still. 

“I told ya to dress warmly,” Chibs hissed. 

“I know, but my jeans got cold,” Tig replied. 

“Why didn’t you get some Long Johns?” I asked. 

“I thought I had some! Only thing I could find were Venus’ tights,” he said.

Chibs snorted.

“Hey, Cal. Ten bucks says he’s wearin’ ‘em,” he whispered. 

Tig growled. 

“Man, fuck you!” Tig snapped. 

“You two don’t even know cold. Live in Ireland in the dead of winter for a month. Makes California winters look balmy,” Chibs said. 

“Fuck that shit. Been there done that. Can’t say much for the rest of Ireland, but Belfast? Ain’t even good pussy there,” Tig said. 

“Ya’d probably rather be in Mexico,” Chibs said to Tig. 

“Hell yeah!” he agreed.

“At least in Mexico, when he whips it out, the chick won’t be throating a pricksicle,” I popped off. 

“Ah, Jesus Christ,” Chibs complained. 

Tig covered his mouth, laughing behind his hand. I looked up to see Chibs roll his eyes. 

“You’re proud of that one, huh?” Chibs asked. 

I shrugged. Tig got a grip and refocused on the task at hand. 

“What do you think these fuckers want from Nero?” he asked. 

We heard Chibs groan. 

“Has to be personal shit. I just don’t like the idea of this shit happenin’ when Wendy and those boys could be visitin’. Don’t want Nero gettin’ hurt, either,” he said. 

“Whoever it is, they’re gonna get a bullet in their ass if we find ‘em,” Tig replied. 

“Aye,” Chibs agreed. 

We fell silent for a while, the only sounds other than a distant train, being our subtle movements, the wind, and my chattering teeth. Soon, though, the sound of a cell phone vibrating break the silence. Tig felt for his phone before he realized it was Chibs’ receiving a call. We looked up to see Chibs pull his cell phone out of his pocket and answer it. 

“Yeah?” he asked, “…Shit…’Kay…We’re comin’.”

Chibs shut his phone. 

“Hap spotted three guys headin’ towards the house. He’s gonna draw ‘em into the barn,” he said. 

“Goddammit,” Tig hissed. 

I looked over the pile of brush to see Happy creep out of the machinery and sprint over to the back of barn. Tig slapped my arm, not meaning to hit me so hard, but the excitement got the best of him. 

“Holy shit! Look! There they are!” he whispered. 

I followed his finger to see three guys in black, moving in on foot from the east side of the property. I adjusted my rifle and looked through the scope, putting them in my sights and ready to take them out.   
A loud crash came from inside of the barn, and you could hear the sound of startled chickens squawking. The three strangers were alerted. We watched as they froze on their journey to the house and pointed to the barn. They seemed confused as to what to do next, but then the first waved the other two over, and with guns at the ready, they crept over to the front of the barn. 

“They took the bait,” Tig said. 

Chibs slipped out of the tree. 

“Let’s go,” he whispered. 

Tig and I stood to our feet and followed Chibs out of the brush and down the hill. We closed the space between the base of the hill and the barn quickly and slid up against the rough walls of the barn. I looked around, checking my back when I saw a wooden ladder, leading up to a rectangular opening in the side of the barn. When I squinted to see better, I noticed a clump of what could either be straw or hay blowing in the wind out of a corner. Hay loft. 

“Tiggy, I’ll take the back,” Chibs whispered. 

I looked back down to the guys. 

“You guys go ahead,” I whispered. 

Chibs and Tig both looked at me like I had spewed something insane out of my mouth. 

“What?” Chibs hissed. 

“Just go! I have an idea,” I replied. 

Chibs groaned.

“Fine,” he said. 

We then split. I slipped over to the ladder and slipped my rifle underneath an old bathtub, which I assumed had been used as a water trough at one time. I then gripped the steps and climbed the steep climb into the top floor of the barn. Thankfully, I was right about it being a hayloft, and was grateful I wasn’t allergic.  
I climbed to my feet and pulled my gun out of the inside of my jacket. It was dark inside, but warmer, and reeked of chicken and goat shit. It was also dead quiet. I made sure to keep my foot falls silent as I moved through the loft, keeping my gun ready. Below me, I could hear the whispering of voices I didn’t recognize. I crept to the edge of the loft and looked below. Feathers were scattered on the dirt floor, and I could see three black figures moving cautiously through the center aisle. 

“I thought I heard something, Casey! I swear!” one whispered. 

“Just a bunch of fucking chickens. Probably a snake. Or whatever fell scared them. This place is falling apart,” the one I assumed was Casey said. 

“Better check it out, anyway. I’ll look,” the third said, then split off from the other two. 

“Come on, Mike. Let’s go back up the house. I saw that wetback’s car in the driveway,” Casey said. 

Casey nodded and Mike began to follow while the third crept around the stalls. Suddenly, out of a pile of hay, Happy shot out, grabbed Mike, and slammed him against the wall. Mike shot in fear. I ducked. Tig and Chibs shot in from opposite sides of the barn, and Tig grabbed Casey, slamming the guy up beside Mike. 

“Party’s over, boys,” Chibs said, gun pointed at them. 

Tig looked around. 

“I thought there were three?” he asked. 

Before Chibs could react, the third one shot out of the darkness, grabbed Chibs around the neck from behind and pressed his gun to the side of Chibs’ head. 

“Drop it,” the guy growled. 

Chibs gritted his teeth and dropped his gun. I gritted my teeth and climb over a few hay bales, getting closer. I found a square hole in the floor, just above Chibs and the guy. Above me was an old wench, which was used to lift hay bales into the loft without hefting them up and down ladders. I positioned myself over the hole. I could have shot the guy from here, but any sudden movement and I could easily miss and hit Chibs. I wasn’t going to risk that, but I was going to make damn sure this kid got his fucking hands off of Chibs. 

“Any one move and I will blow his goddamn head off!” the guy shouted. 

Tig and Happy looked nervous. I put my gun in my jacket, crouched over the hole, and decided to jump for it. I was pretty high up, but I hoped either the kid or Chibs would break my fall. I hoped that would be all that was broken.   
I took a deep breath and launched myself out of the hole. The kid looked up and immediately let go of Chibs. I jumped the kid, slamming him into the ground. He squirmed as I climbed on top of him and slammed my elbow into his nose as I fished my gun out of my jacket. Chibs scrambled for his gun out of the dirt and turned around, holding it up and searching for someone to shoot. I pressed my gun between the kid’s eyes and he immediately went to whimpering. 

“Okay, okay!” he cried out. 

I pressed harder, grabbed the front of his black turtleneck, and yanked him up until I was inches from his face. 

“You dare lay your hands on him again and I’ll load your head with bullets. You understand me?” I growled. 

The kid nodded. 

“Yes,” he whimpered. 

I shoved him back down violently. 

“Who are you? Who are you with?” I asked. 

The kid started to panic. I cocked my gun. 

“Answer me!” I snarled through gritted teeth. 

“Don’t tell her!” the Mike kid shouted. 

Happy busted his lip. 

“Shut the fuck up!” he growled. 

“The VII!” the kid below me cried, “They sent us here.”

I felt my heart leap into my throat and I almost choked. 

“The VII? What the hell for?” I asked. 

“They sent us to find Z’s Old Lady,” he replied. 

I felt my blood run cold as I stared at this kid, who was shaking and staring at my gun with fear in his eyes. 

“Dude, that’s her!” the Casey kid shouted. 

Tig shoved him against the wall. 

“You better shut your goddamn mouth, boy,” he threatened. 

Chibs cocked his gun and pointed it at the kid below me. 

“What do they want with her?” he asked lowly. 

“They think you know—“

“Dude, stop! We aren’t allowed to say anything!” Casey exclaimed, “They’re Sons!”

“Little too late for that now, yeah?” Chibs asked. 

I gripped the kid’s neck. 

“Know what?” I asked. 

“They think you’re ratting to the Sons,” he said. 

“About Z’s death,” he said, then swallowed, “They think you know that they killed him.”

My world suddenly stopped. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t hear anything except for the loud beating of my heart in my ears. 

“Fuck, man! You weren’t supposed to—“

My hearing came back with the sound of a gun. I looked up to see the Casey kid crumple to the ground. 

“Tig!” Chibs snapped. 

Tig shrugged. 

“He was a problem,” he said. 

I looked back down at the kid. 

“That can’t be true. He died at home,” I said, “Why would they kill him.”

The kid shrugged. 

“He was a rat,” the Mike kid spoke up.

I looked up at him.

“He was never a rat!” I snapped. 

“He was leaving the club. They were protecting their secrets. Needed him gone, so they poisoned him. Least that’s what Tino told us,” he said. 

Tino? Was he fucking kidding me?

“With what?” I asked, looking back down at the kid below me. 

The kid whimpered. 

“Oxy,” he whispered. 

I let out a shaky breath. Zero and pain killers had never mixed. He usually had to go ahead and suffer, and with his weak heart, pain killers were a no-no. Oxy was a death wish.   
I removed the gun from his head. White hot anger spread through me, reason releasing into thin air. Those sons of bitches! Zero’s death was sudden. He had several year to live and more if we found a good doctor. This made since. His sudden death. The reason none of the guys would talk to me and let me near them. Not to mention, they had been fighting with Zero for months. Even L, who was Sergeant at Arms at the time and Zero’s closest friend, was always on his ass. This, as insane as it was, made sense. 

“Made good rat poison,” Mike laughed. 

And then, I snapped. I jumped to my feet, pointing my gun at Mike, and shot. The bullet hit his arm, and Happy consequently let go. 

“Callie!” Tig shouted. 

Mike bolted out the door, and I tore off after him, Chibs screaming after me. He took off into the field. I ran out the door and shot, blowing his knee out. Mike screamed and crumbled to the ground. I looked around and found an old pipe that looked like it had come off of a piece of machinery, and grabbed it. 

“Callie!” Chibs called. 

I took off after Mike and ran up to him. He tried to crawl away as I swung. I screamed and swung the pipe like a bat, beating the guy black, blue and red. I wasn’t paying any attention to what I was doing. I just kept on, releasing all my anger and wanting him dead. When my arms got tired, I switched to fists. 

“Callie!” I heard Tig scream. 

I heard him run up behind me and grabbed me around the waist. 

“Let go!” I screamed. 

“Callie, stop! Get off of him. He’s dead. He’s dead, baby girl,” he said. 

I hadn’t realized what had happened until Tig had pulled me off the guy. It was like my rage had turned everything red, and when the haze cleared, I saw a kid with a face turned into nothing more than blood, thoroughly pummeled, and the same blood covered my hands and arms.   
Tig pulled me into a tight hug, holding my firmly against his chest. 

“Calm down, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

I took a deep breath, trying to regulate my breathing and calm my speeding heart rate. 

“Boy, when you want somebody dead, there’s no stopping you,” Tig said, trying to lighten the mood. 

I nodded. Not like it’s my first time. 

“Tiggy!”

Tig and I looked up to see Chibs jog over. He looked at the bloody meatloaf I had made out of the kid’s face. 

“Holy shit,” he breathed out. 

“She got ‘em good,” Tig said. 

Chibs nodded. 

“Well, he deserved it,” he said, then looked over to us, “Tig, go back in. Help Hap. I got her.”

Tig nodded, then looked down at me and smiled before patting my shoulder and leaving me with Chibs and the body. Chibs walked up to me. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he said softly, sadness in his eyes. 

I nodded. Tears welled up before I could stop them. I took the half-step needed to close the space between us, buried my face in the cold leather of his jacket, and let the dams break. Chibs wound his arms tightly around me.

“Goddamn them,” I whispered. 

Chibs rubbed small circles into my back. 

“I know,” he said, “They’ll get theirs.”

I choked on a sob and squeezed my eyes shut. Those fucking bastards. 

I felt Chibs kiss the side of my head. I wanted to chop the goddamn heads off of every single one of those backstabbing motherfuckers. Drugging Zero, knowing any amount of painkillers would kill him, shutting me out so I wouldn’t find out, thinking Zero would even exercise the thought of ratting club business, even though he disagreed with a lot of shit, was unbelievable and unforgivable.   
Chibs and I pulled away and I wiped my face. Chibs cupped my jaw and wiped the moisture away with his thumbs. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

I swallowed down the lump in my throat and nodded. I looked down at the kid I had bludgeoned and gestured to him with my hand. 

“Sorry about that. I should’ve waited for you to make the call,” I said. 

Chibs shook his head. 

“Don’t worry about it. These are yours. I’ll let you have the last one,” he said. 

I shook my head. Oh, I’ll kill that last one, but I he was going to hear about it first. 

“Let me talk to him first,” I said. 

Chibs nodded. 

“Alright. C’mon. I’ll let the guys take care of Mr. Mouth,” he said, then gave the body one cold look before spitting on it. 

I gave him a small smile. Chibs put an arm around my shoulders and we walked back up to the barn. I entered to see Tig standing over the kid, gun aimed and ready. The kid was sobbing and curled into a ball, his face bleeding still. 

“Hap, go out there and get that body. Bring it up here,” Chibs ordered. 

Happy nodded and jogged back outside. I held a hand up to Tig. 

“Lower your gun, Tiggy,” I said. 

Tig shot me a questioning look.

“You sure?” he asked. 

I nodded and moved closer. Tig slowly lowered his gun and backed down. I crouched over the kid, gun in hand. 

“What’s your name?” I asked. 

Chibs walked up behind the kid. 

“R-RJ,” he stuttered, “RJ Richards.”

“How old are you, RJ?” I asked. 

“26,” he replied. 

I nodded. He looked no older than 16. Long, curly, stringy brown hair. Giant brown eyes. Barely any facial hair, if any at all. Scrawny thing.

“How long have you been with The VII?” I asked. 

He took a deep breath, calming his crying. 

“About three months,” he replied. 

I looked over my shoulder and pointed to the body of the other kid. 

“What about him?” I asked. 

“Casey? About the same. Mike, almost six months,” he replied. 

“So you three are Prospects?” I asked. 

He nodded. I snorted. Fucking cowards. Can’t even come after me themselves. 

“You are aware that everything you told us makes you a rat, right?” I asked. 

RJ watched me sadly, the same puppy-dog look Juice sometimes had. 

“And ratting means death,” I went on. 

“I don’t care,” RJ said, looking down, “I just wanted out. Anything to get out.”

I bit my lip. That had been the same plea several Prospects came to Zero with, knowing he would show compassion to the kids. It had always been Shane’s call who they Prospected. No vote until they made it through probation. Of course, none of them did. Zero always did anything he could to save their lives, and of course, made him a traitor to the club—that is, if they found out. There’s a fine line between treating a member like a member, and treating them like human beings. Zero always believed in treating them like humans if they deserved it, and had his health been better, he would have challenged Shane for the throne. I wished he had just shot the guy now. 

“Hey,” I said, tapping the kid’s shoulder to get his attention. 

RJ jumped and looked up at me. Yup. They had beaten this one pretty good. 

“How the hell did you end up with them?” I asked. 

“After college, I ran out of money. Ended up homeless. L found me. Asked me if I could ride and shoot. I said yes, so he offered me a home with the club. As soon as Shane decided he wanted me, I was in. The only price I had to pay was my freedom. Guess I signed a deal with the devil. They chipped me immediately.”

I narrowed my eyes. 

“Chipped you?” I asked. 

“Microchipped,” he replied. 

“Like a goddamn dog?” Tig asked in disbelief. 

RJ nodded. 

“Once you’re a Prospect of The VII, you’re property of The VII,” he replied, “All of us are chipped. That’s how Tino knew where to look. Santiago disappeared up near Charming a couple of weeks ago on a mission to find you. Tino came to check it out. Found out you were with the Sons.”

“Santiago? Mexican?” Tig asked. 

RJ nodded. 

“Holy shit,” Chibs said. 

“Then why the hell are you guys down here in Norco?” I asked, getting angry again. 

“Tino found out the Sons owned part of Diosa. Told us to start there. We scoped it out, saw the guy with the blue Impala. Figured he held some weight. Takes a lot of money just to keep those running, anyway. Thought that if we followed him, he’d have the answers.”

“Bro, Nero’s retired. Why do you think he’s living here?” Tig asked. 

RJ nodded. 

“I know. I thought it was pretty sketch, but Mike wanted to check it out anyway,” he replied. 

“Why are they after me?” I asked. 

RJ wiped some of the blood dripping from his mouth. 

“They thought you were coming to the Sons for help. Figured you were piping Z’s shit up North in exchange for vengeance.”

I let out a humorless laugh. I knew what he was talking about. 

“I left to get the hell out of there. I was fucking sick and tired of Huntington. I ended up with these guys on accident. It just happened. I had no idea they did what they did to him,” I replied, “If I had, I would have killed them myself.” 

RJ nodded. 

“If they’re tracking you, they probably think you’re on your way back. Huntington Beach ain’t that far from here,” Tig said. 

I nodded and studied RJ for a moment.

“You want out?” I asked. 

He nodded. 

“Just make it quick. Please,” he replied. 

I looked at him in surprise. 

“Dude, I’m not gonna kill you,” I replied. 

It was RJ’s turn to look surprised. I held my hand out, offering to help him up. He took it and stood, unsteady on his feet. Chibs gripped his shoulders to steady him. I looked up at Chibs, who nodded.

“Listen, these guys? They’re not at all the kind of evil The VII is,” I told RJ, “SAMCRO needs bodies around the table. What if we let you Prospect with us?”

“Yeah,” Tig agreed, “And no slave shit. We’re not savages.”

RJ’s eyes lit up. 

“Really?” he asked. 

“If you want,” Chibs said, “We can give ya a place to crash. A home.”

RJ’s eyes watered.

“No strings?” he asked. 

“All we ask for is loyalty,” Chibs replied.

I nodded in agreement. 

“But if you rat, you will die,” I said. 

“I swear! I won’t!” 

I put my gun back inside my jacket. 

“Where’s your chip at?” I asked. 

RJ held out his left arm and pointed to a spot just before the bend on the inside of his arm.

“Here. Just under the skin,” he replied. 

“We can get that out for ya,” Chibs said. 

RJ looked up at him, petrified. 

“With what? A fucking pocketknife?” he exclaimed. 

Chibs grabbed RJ’s shoulder and raised an eyebrow at him.

“How about a local, a scalpel, and stitches? How does that sound, young man?” he asked. 

RJ was still unsure. 

“He’s a medic. He knows what he’s doing,” I assured him. 

RJ let out a shaky, relieved breath.

“Yeah. Okay,” he agreed, “Thank-you.”

Chibs nodded. 

“Tig, cut the chips out of the bodies. We’ll take care of this one’s in the van and destroy them here. Lose the trail.”

Tig nodded. Happy came in, dragging the body of Mike that I had so hastily dispatched. As soon as RJ saw it, he went ghostly white, then gagged, turned away, and proceeded to vomit. Chibs and I stepped away. Chibs looked down at me, smiled and shook his head. 

“Never fails,” he said. 

I smiled and turned away. 

“What do you want to do with these?” Happy asked. 

“Tig will take care of them. I’ll call Nero. Let him know he can come home. While Tig’s burying the bodies, we’ll get this young man’s chip taken care of. Go around and get the van,” Chibs said. 

Happy nodded and left again. RJ finished his ralphing and slumped to the ground, completely out of energy. Chibs leaned down and pulled him back up. 

“Let’s go, tough guy. Ya got your bike?” Chibs asked. 

RJ nodded.

“East side. Outside of the fence,” he replied. 

“No trackers on it?” I asked. 

RJ shook his head. 

“‘Kay. We’ll ride back in the van. Tig, when you finish with those, will you go find his bike and ride it back?” Chibs asked. 

Tig yanked a chip out of Casey’s arm, and RJ fainted. Chibs rolled his eyes and threw the boy over his shoulder. 

“You got it,” Tig replied. 

With that, Chibs and I left the barn, an unconscious RJ in tow. Happy backed the van up to the barn and opened the back doors for us. Chibs carefully laid RJ in the floor and climbed inside in search of his kit. I retreated to the side of the barn where I had hidden the rifle and brought it back to find Chibs with a small flashlight in his mouth, preparing a syringe. I pulled a pack of smokes from my pocket, lit up, and climbed in, taking the flashlight out of Chibs’ mouth and holding it for him. 

“Thank ya, sweetheart,” he said. 

He then prepped RJ’s arm before giving him the anesthetic. 

“You okay?” Chibs asked, removing the needle. 

I nodded. 

“Yeah, I guess,” I replied. 

Chibs gave me a sympathetic look before going for his scalpel. 

“I’m sorry about all this,” he said. 

I looked away as he felt for the chip, then began the incision. For some reason, watching shit like that made me queasy. I was good with most things, but take me to a hospital, and I’m gone. 

“Yeah, me too,” I replied quietly. 

I knew what I had to do. I had to find the club. If I wasn’t seeking vengeance before, I was seeking it now.

“I’m sorry it followed me to you guys. I had no idea. I’ll take care of it,” I replied, then took a drag from my cigarette. 

Chibs traded his scalpel for a small pair of forceps, which kind of looked like giant tweezers. 

“What do ya mean?” he asked. 

“I’ll get rid of them. Get them out of your hair,” I said. 

Chibs shot me a look of bewilderment. 

“This is my shit, Chibs,” I said. 

“No,” he said firmly, “Not anymore.”

“Chibs—“

“A club is endangering one of ours? Ya can be damn sure we have your back, Callie girl. 100%,” he interrupted. 

I just shook my head. Chibs plucked the chip out of RJ’s arm and wiped away the blood. 

“You guys don’t have to do that. I can handle it,” I argued. 

Chibs set the chip and forceps aside and looked me straight in the eyes. 

“You’re not handlin’ it alone. No one hurts you and gets away with it. Not under our watch,” he said. 

I nodded. Chibs pressed a cloth to the incision, as he had no way to cauterize the veins. He then leaned over to me and took my chin within his fingers. 

“They will pay for hurtin’ ya. Ya hear me, love?” he asked. 

I just nodded.

“Thank-you,” I whispered. 

Chibs reached up and kissed my forehead. Below us, RJ roused and his eyes wheeled around, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Where am I?” he asked. 

Chibs smiled and held up the chip. 

“Got it,” he said. 

RJ’s eyes widened. He looked down at his arm and in an instant was out again. Chibs laughed. 

“We’re going to have to train him to get over that,” I said. 

Chibs reached into his bag to prepare to stitch him up. 

“I know, but ya gotta admit. It’s kinda funny,” he said. 

I swatted his shoulder. 

“Asshole,” I said. 

“Works better than anesthesia,” he said. 

I rolled my eyes, then moved down to help him with the stitches, learning a little along the way. It reminded me of the time Zero had punched his hand through thick glass so all of us idiot kids could break into a record store. He tore his hand up in the process, and I had gone with him to the emergency room and held his hand while the doctor stitched him up. An innocent crime back then, looking back. Hardly ever got caught. We turned into monsters after high school, getting into shit we had no business getting into, risking spending years in prison, and yet, we still never got caught. Nor did we do hardly any evil. We killed for survival when it came down to it. Zero was never vicious. Never evil. He would have turned the gun on himself before his brothers. For them to turn on him? It made me sick.   
They would pay. I was going to make sure of that. I would avenge his death, and he would finally be able to rest in peace. I thanked God I would have my brothers by my side to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	18. A New Planet

I think a lot of people have those days where they just don’t want to get up. You want to shut your eyes, sleep for the next 24 hours, and wake up the next day, hoping you wake up in a better mood. You may have several days like that. Maybe it happens every so often. Maybe it has happened once, and it may never happen again, because whatever caused it was a freak thing. If so, then you’re lucky, because if you happen to be me, then it happens every day for years without fail, and it drives you straight into the ground.  
I woke up like that today. I opened my eyes, wondering what time it was, and what day it was when suddenly everything ran up on me, and I suddenly didn’t care what time it was or if it was the weekend yet. I felt like shit, and not just because I was exhausted. I had no energy, and on top of that, my body hurt from jumping from who knows how many feet and crashing on top of a little skinny RJ, and I’m pretty sure the soreness radiating from my right shin was from hitting it on Chibs’ thick skull. The pain, mixed with everything else, kept my still and silent. It took all of me just to breathe.  
Even when I finally got up to take a shower to soothe the pain, I didn’t feel better. I felt like the world was moving, and I was stuck in time. My body moved, but my soul was on pause. My thoughts were skidding, replaying last night’s words in blunt intervals, not making any sense until my body was fully awake, and I pulled a long-sleeved flannel over my shoulders, staring at someone who didn’t even look like me in the bathroom mirror. Bags under my eyes, residual eyeliner smeared underneath, making me look like a ghoul. I was pale. Down my arms were faint bruises, and my left set of knuckles were stiff and swollen. I wondered if I had broken something, but quickly realized I didn’t give a shit. My thoughts were short, and my patience at an end.  
I looked up at my face, one thought actual relevant to today passed through my mind. A thought to myself.

“ _You look sad today_.”

As soon as it went through my head I processed it, I realized I was right. Then, I realized I was sad, and once I confirmed it to myself it filled me slowly and thickly, black and slow as hot tar.  
Last night played out in full in my mind. The guys, a group of boys I used to call my brothers, had betrayed their brother. Zero was in pain a lot. His chest hurt. Sometimes it hurt him to breathe. But that man pushed himself to live normally. He didn’t dare let that pain put him down. There were days where he needed a pep talk, of course, but he pushed through. I would have already let go if I had been in his position. He always put a smile on, even if it was fake as hell. He didn’t deserve to die early, and certainly not by the hand of his backstabbing brothers. I could only imagine the pain he was in that night. The fear. The panic. I had never suspected foul play, and apparently the boys made damn sure it wouldn’t get out.

I could have died not knowing any of it.

I walked back to my room, not even bothering to shut the door. Somewhere in my mind, I thought I was getting dressed and ready for the day. I ended up in the top, but put my sweatpants back on. I didn’t even bother to do my hair or wash the gunk from under my eyes. I was going back to bed.  
I climbed onto the futon mattress, curled up under the now cold blankets. It was days like this that caused me to fall back into old thought processes. To not even fight away the urge to break. Feelings like these made me wish I had never crashed. Never stayed. Never patched in as a Prospect. Never let myself care too much for any of these guys. As awful as I knew it was, I wished I were with Zero. Maybe then I could have some kind of peace.  
I never heard the movement through the house. Never heard the rumbling of the Dyna fading away, nor did I hear it fade in again. No doors. No boot steps on the wooden floor. No glasses clinking in the kitchen just beyond the bathroom walls. I had not realized that my exhaustion caught up with me, and I was out cold. At least, for a little while. I was awoken by no loud noises, but by something touching my hair. I opened my eyes slowly to see dark, faded jeans.

“Hey,” Chibs said softly.

I briefly wondered how the hell he got in my room when I realized I had neglected to shut the door. I never locked it anyway.  
I stretched awkwardly and groaned, looking around to see that the room was brighter as the sun had made its way over the horizon.

“Hey,” I grunted out.

“Got church,” he said.

Shit. I cleared my throat and relaxed. I was not ready to get up.

“‘Kay. Give me ten minutes and I’ll be ready,” I replied, my eyes falling closed again.

“No, darlin’. You stay here today. Get some rest,” he said, brushing my still damp hair off of my face.

Must not have been out long.

“What?” I asked in surprise.

“You’ve only had three hours of sleep,” he said.

“Well, so have you,” I retorted.

Okay, I’m grumpy. He’s right.

Chibs smiled warmly and leaned down to kiss my forehead.

“There’s a box of donuts by the toaster. Coffee’s still warm. I’ll be back in a few hours. Will ya be okay here by yourself?”

I yawned and nodded.

“‘Kay. Go back to sleep. Keep the doors locked,” he said.

I watched as he moved back across the room to the door. The first thing to run through my mind was that he sounded like an overprotective parent. Of course, he was no where near the amount of psycho overprotective parents were, but he was very protective. When he left, I found myself wishing him back. For a few minutes, I didn’t feel like shit. I knew then today was not a day to be left by myself.

***

Chibs walked through Redwoody in silence. Lyla and a few of her crew were busy working on a brand new set, and a few of the Sons were hanging around the bar. He walked slowly, his thoughts scrolling over the topics for church. He stopped halfway to the bar to light a cigarette. As he took his first drag, the door opened. To his surprise, Tig and Venus entered. Chibs smiled and let his cigarette dangle between his first two fingers.

“Come to shoot your first flick, darlin’?” he asked teasingly.

Venus marched up to him, her heels clacking and a look on her face that meant danger.

“Honey, this is an exclusive, members only party,” she quipped.

Chibs grinned and placed his cigarette back in his mouth.

“Do I have an invitation?” Tig asked.

Venus smirked and took his cheek in her hand.

“Baby, you have a year round pass,” she drawled.

Chibs looked away as his skin crawled. He knew what the ride sounded like, and he’d rather them not speak about it.  
Tig growled and kissed Venus. Chibs patiently waited until the party was over so their mouths were free to speak.

“What are ya doin’ up here, sweetheart?” he asked.

Tig batted his eyelashes at Chibs.

“Not you, idiot,” Chibs spat.

Tig laughed.

“Goddamn Dyna wouldn’t start. Rat and Quinn came by to pick it up and take it to TM, so they’ll be running late. Venus gave me a lift,” he replied.

“Decided I’d join in on Alexander’s adventures,” Venus said.

Chibs smiled. Venus leaned over and kissed Chibs’ cheek.

“How are you doing, Filip?” she asked.

Chibs gave her a soft smile.

“I’m alright. You good?”

“Yes, sweetheart. Mind if I hang around here until your meeting is over?”

“Yeah, she’s gonna take me back home. I haven’t slept yet,” Tig said.

Chibs shrugged and nodded.

“I don’t mind,” he replied.

Venus smiled and patted his chest.

“I’ll leave you boys to it, then,” she said.

Tig and Chibs watched as Venus sauntered off to speak to the girls. Tig walked up to Chibs.

“Did ya get those chips taken care of?” Chibs asked quietly.

“Yeah, brother,” Tig replied.

Chibs looked to his Vice President.

“What’d ya do with ‘em?” he asked.

Tig pushed his ringed fingers into the pockets of his black jeans.

“Well, I thought about destroying them, but then those asshole would know, so I scattered them,” he said.

Chibs raised an eyebrow at him.

“Where?”

Tig shrugged.

“Rode down to Huntington Beach. Sprinkled them here and there. That way they’ll think they’re back until one shorts out,” he replied.

Chibs nodded.

“So long as they never knew those boys were in Norco. They’ll trace it back,” he replied.

Tig nodded.

“Yeah, but they won’t be sure. I know it’s only temporary, but it buys us some time until we can figure out how to keep them away from Callie. Where is she, by the way?”

Chibs sighed.

“Home. I told her to stay and get some sleep,” he replied.

Tig frowned.

“How is she?” he asked, “That was some brutal shit.”

“I know,” Chibs said.

He looked around in thought for a moment before meeting his brother’s eyes.

“I really don’t know what to do here, Tiggy. I mean, what are ya s’posed to say? ‘It’s okay’ won’t fix it. Goin’ six years thinkin’ it was natural causes, then to find out in five minutes it was all a lie?”

“I know, brother,” Tig said.

Chibs felt a lump in his throat. He knew that same pain. Losing his family, never able to see his wife or daughter, only to find out within 48 hours his wife had been harboring a lie, which was still being kept from the young woman he was made to believe was his own flesh and blood. His situation was nowhere near as extreme as Callie’s, but he understood. That pain that made you want to drink yourself stupid. That pain that made your mood and your thoughts take a dive into the shitter, and caused an itch that was promised to never be satisfied. They were wounds that cut deeper than any pocket knife he had abused.

“You know she had a nightmare about that? About her Old Man. She never knew at the time. Creepy shit, man.”

Chibs’ eyes widened. He remembered Tig calling and telling him about that!

“Shit,” he said.

“She’s home alone?” Tig asked.

Chibs looked to Tig.

“Until church is over, then I was probably going to grab some lunch and take it home,” he replied.

Tig nodded slowly.

“You want Venus to run by and check on her?” he asked.

Chibs took a moment to weigh pros and cons that did not necessarily exist before nodding.

“Yeah, sure. If she doesn’t mind,” he replied.

Tig nodded and turned away to grab Venus and tell her. Chibs walked over to the bar, finishing off his cigarette and stubbing it out in the ash tray. Juice and RJ were standing nearby talking idly when Juice spotted him. He left RJ to speak with Happy while he approached Chibs.

“Hey,” he said, “Where’s Cal?”

“Home,” Chibs replied shortly, then gestured to RJ.

When they arrived back in Charming, he had called Juice with their current new guy situation, not saying much other than that they had saved him, and would fill him in at chapel. He asked Juice if he’d mind letting RJ crash with him, and Juice agreed. From the looks of it, they were getting along so far.

“How’s he been?” Chibs asked, pointing to RJ.

Juice looked over his shoulder to the younger man and shrugged.

“He’s alright. Tired. Kinda quiet. Seems nice enough, though,” he replied.

Chibs nodded.

“Good. Let’s see if we can get a cut on him,” he said.

Juice nodded. Chibs patted Juice’s shoulder before walking off as Tig approached.

“She said yes,” Tig said.

Chibs nodded. Tig took the President by the shoulders, surprising him.

“As soon as that gavel goes down, you go home and you be there for that girl. You understand?” he asked.

Chibs nodded, cowering a little under the intense gaze of the older man. Tig eyed him for a moment before patting his shoulder and turning away to say goodbye to Venus. Chibs watched after him. That’s all he wanted to do.

***

_I found myself at the pond. I didn’t remember how I got there, or why I was there, but as I sat on the bank, flinging small rocks and sticks into the water, I felt it was the place to be. I was taking great pleasure in tossing things into the water, watching it ripple, and not throwing another thing until all of the ripples faded. The sun lit up the water, creating a sort of magical sparkle on the surface. It was hypnotizing and peaceful._

_“I know you’re not sitting out here moping, Callie,” spoke an accusing, yet playful voice._

_I jumped and looked up to see a tall man a few yards away from me. Long reddish-brown hair and just enough beard to cover his face. He wore a purple shirt, nice jeans, and a pair of white boots. It had been so long since I had seen that outfit that I almost didn’t recognize him. I immediately grabbed a finger-full of my arm and pinched as hard as I could. When I couldn’t feel it, I realized that I was dreaming, and he was still dead._

_“Zero…” I said._

_He looked just as he did the night he left, except alive, and not sick._

_“Hi, sweetheart,” he said, casually walking up to me and sitting down on his knees in front of me._

_I scrambled to my own knees to hug him, but he held his hands up._

_“Callie, don’t. If you touch me, you’ll want to come with me.”_

_I let my hands fall to my lap with a slap and I stared at him in complete disbelief._

_“Z, goddammit! I want to be with you. I hate not having you here anymore,” I said, tears rushing to my eyes._

_“I’m always with you, sweetheart. I see everything. Including this shit,” he said, pointing to my arms, “What is that shit, Callie?”_

_I held one of my wrists and looked down in shame. I knew he hated me for that._

_“I’m sorry,” I whispered._

_Zero sighed and scooted closer. I couldn’t touch him, but I could feel his warmth._

_“Look at me, Cal,” he ordered._

_I looked up to meet pools of vibrant blue and my chest knotted up._

_“It’s okay,” he said, “Don’t cry in front of me, either, baby. You know I don’t want to see that. You promised me you would be happy when I left. Remember?”_

_I shook my head._

_“Z, it’s hard. How am I supposed to just move on? And especially after what they did to you! Did you know what they did?”_

_Zero nodded._

_“Yes,” he said quietly, then leaned closer to me._

_I could smell his cologne. Goddamn, it had been so long!_

_“And that’s why you are still here, baby. You have a long life ahead of you. I was just a jumpstart.”_

_“Z, don’t say it like that.”_

_“Callie, my heart was fucked at birth. You knew that. This all happened for a reason. I know that sucks to hear, but it’s true.”_

_Tears fell down my cheeks and I looked down to hide them._

_“This sadness will end. I’ve seen how happy you’ve been here. And I’ve seen the love you have for ol’ Scotty,” he said teasingly._

_I looked up at him in shock._

_“Zero, I—“_

_“Never thought you would go for older, but hey! It was meant to be,” he went on._

_Zero was looking over my shoulder. I turned around to see Chibs pull up on his Dyna, and everything Zero was saying suddenly made sense. How I just so happened to crash land here, how Chibs’ romantic ties were cut, how we ended up housemates. Paths cross for a reason._

_“It’s not cheating, Callie,” he said._

_I looked back to him._

_“I know,” I said quietly, “It’s just weird.”_

_“It’ll work out,” he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before turning into the big beautiful smile I had fallen in love with when I was a kid, “In fact, I know it will!”_

_I just smiled at him before raising an eyebrow._

_“Did you handpick this one?” I asked._

_Zero bit his lip, his eyes giving him away. He looked like a guilty little kid. The shithead._

_“I’m not a Fate. It’s not in my hands. I’m just a guardian.”_

_I smiled at that, even though it made my eyes water like no other._

_“Do you get to guard whoever you want?” I asked._

_He nodded._

_“But, you’re kinda already assigned to people when you pass. Some don’t need it. My parents didn’t. They have a full house. Remember my grandparents? Drove us nuts at Thanksgiving?”_

_I laughed at that._

_“Oh, definitely,” I said._

_“Yeah,” he replied, “I’d much rather follow you around.”_

_I smiled, fighting the urge to touch his hands. It was absolute torture._

_“Are you always here?” I asked._

_He nodded._

_“Some times from on high, some times right behind you. Alongside you when you ride. I never left, baby.”_

_That made me lose it, and I had to cover my mouth with my hand to hold my lips still as I fought to stop the waterworks. Zero didn’t say anything as a pained smile crossed his lips. He reached a hand up, but retracted it, catching himself._

_“Callie!”_

_I looked over my shoulder to see Chibs crossing the backyard. I suddenly turned back to Zero._

_“Can he see you?” I whispered._

_Zero laughed._

_“He’s blissfully unaware,” he replied._

_I smiled at that. Zero watched Chibs thoughtfully._

_“Do you love him?” he asked._

_I blinked at Zero. That was a first._

_I looked back over my shoulder to see Chibs still walking, taking forever. My eyes roamed up his long legs, over his SAMCRO belt buckle, leather jacket, across that rough, serious expression that I sometimes had the urge to slap off of him. Would it kill him to smile, if not relax?_

_“God, yes,” I sighed, really forgetting that my late-fiancé was sitting right in front of me as I watched Chibs’ hair fall in his face._

_Zero’s giggle broke me from my thoughts and I spun back around. I had never discussed my feelings for anyone with him, except my feelings for him, because he had been the only one._

_“I’m gonna tell you right now, babe, that’s a whole different planet,” he said, referring to Chibs._

_I nodded. I knew that!_

_Zero leaned closer and smiled._

_“But it’ll be worth it,” he whispered, “Now, smile for me.”_

_I did it automatically, not needing to be asked. Zero, in turn, smiled back._

_“Keep me here, okay?” he asked, pressing a fist to his chest._

_I nodded._

_“Always. Z, can you promise me something?” I asked._

_He tilted his head to the side._

_“Promise me you’ll be there when I go,” I said._

_Zero smiled._

_“I’ll hold your hand and walk with you, sweetheart,” he replied, “Promise.”_

_I smiled and fought the urge to cry once more._

_“I love you so much,” I whispered._

_“I love you, too, Cal,” he said._

_I heard footsteps behind me, and I looked over my shoulder to see Chibs walk up behind me and smile. I smiled and looked back to Zero, but he was gone. I felt a brief moment of loss, until I heard Chibs sit behind me and I felt his arms wrap around my torso. I inhaled sharply before all anxiety and sadness melted away. Chibs put his chin in my shoulder. I leaned back into him and closed my eyes._

I opened my eyes to a quiet room, the feeling of warmth and happiness from my dream fading. It felt so good to see that sweet boy’s smile. To hear his boyish giggle and his soft, gentle voice. To feel his presence. It made that shitty feeling go away. Everything went away, and whether it was just a dream or a visit (I knew it had to be a visit), I held onto every word he said to me. I knew I had an angel with me, and finally felt the motivation to move forward. A renewed will to live. Happiness restored. God, I hoped Z was right.  
I got out of bed to see that it was noon. I decided to finish getting ready and head into Charming. Spend some time by myself. Explore on my own. Clear my head. I was going to put the bad behind me.

“Let’s go riding, Z,” I said after getting dressed, and flipped the light out.

***

“I just, uh, have one question,” RJ said in a small voice.

Tig shot the young man a deadly glare, while Chibs looked on patiently, confusing him. He would have been shot if he had spoken out of line with The VII, and he feared the VP was about to blow his head off.

“Go ahead,” Chibs said calmly.

RJ looked away from Tig, not knowing the VP meant nothing behind the look. He just liked scaring him.

“Why did you spare me?” RJ asked quietly.

Chibs leaned back in his chair and studied the kid.

“I didn’t spare ya, son. As soon as ya spoke, I wanted ya dead,” he said lowly.

RJ looked down, Chibs words hurting.

“That one was all Callie. Apparently, she saw a reason for ya to live. Maybe she thought ya deserved it for tellin’ her the truth about her Old Man, and then again, maybe she just pitied ya. Whatever the reason, I have a feelin’ it’s what her Old Man would have wanted.”

RJ nodded.

“But if you betray her, she’ll kill ya. Trust me,” Tig added.

“I know,” he replied.

Chibs took a deep breath and leaned on the table, clasping his hands together. He was ready for this meeting to be over so he could go home, eat something, and sleep. Before any of that, though, he was going to talk to Callie. Catch her up, then do what he could to keep her mind off of the night before. He could see it in her eyes when he woke her up that it was not a good day to leave her alone. Not for too long, anyway.

“So, we want to make RJ a Prospect?” Juice asked curiously.

RJ glanced at Juice, then to Chibs.

“Aye,” he replied, “but I want to get a feel for him first before any patches are made up.”

Juice and RJ nodded. Chibs’ eyes locked onto RJ’s.

“This charter will be your new home, son. It’s members, your family. Meanwhile you will have protection from The VII. Ya can be sure of that,” he said.

RJ nodded.

“What about my home now? I have a small apartment. All my things are there. They’re gonna come looking for me,” he said worriedly.

Tig leaned to the side to pick his phone out of his pocket.

“Nah, they won’t,” he said, “Ya got any family, RJ?”

“Just my brother. He lives in Colorado,” he replied.

Tig nodded.

“What’s his name?” he asked.

RJ swallowed, unsure of this.

“Daniel Richards,” he replied.

Tig nodded.

“What are the apartments called?” he asked.

RJ told Tig the name, and Tig had Juice quickly find the number before Tig dialed and shoved the phone into Ratboy’s hands.

“What?” Rat hissed.

“You sound younger,” Tig replied, “Tell them your his brother and he’s dead.”

RJ’s jaw dropped. Ratboy nodded and put the phone to his ear. The receptionist answered and Ratboy cleared his throat.

“Hello, my name is Daniel Richards,” he said.

Tig snapped his fingers at RJ.

“Full name,” he whispered.

“Ryan Jeremy,” RJ whispered.

“My brother is Ryan Richards. He had an apartment there. I, um, he passed away last night. I’m his next of kin, and I wanted to get his things taken care of.”

Ratboy was silent as he listened.

“Yes,” he replied, “No, absolutely. We can come by and pack it up…Death certificate?”

Ratboy gritted his teeth.

“Easy,” Juice whispered.

Ratboy nodded.

“Just a copy?…Okay, we can fax it,” he said, looking around questioningly.

Chibs nodded.

“Not a problem,” he replied.

“Okay, let me get your fax number,” Ratboy said.

Montez grabbed a pen and paper for Ratboy and he scribbled the numbers down. The receptionist wished him her condolences, which he rolled his eyes at and replied politely before hanging up and handed the phone back to Tig.

“You’re dead,” he announced to RJ.

RJ smiled.

“How soon can ya get that death certificate?” Chibs asked Juice.

Juice shrugged.

“An hour, maybe?” he replied.

Chibs pointed to the door.

“Get on it.”

Juice nodded and stood. Tig’s phone vibrated with a call, and he checked it before answering it.

“Hey, baby,” he answered.

Tig listened, and his face went from calm to confusion in a few seconds. He looked up at Chibs, eyebrows knitting together.

“Darling, I don’t know,” he said, “…Maybe. Look, just come on back. Probably nothing to worry about. She probably just ran to get take-out or something…Yeah, that doesn’t sound good…Okay, just come back to town. Do whatever you were gonna do today…Okay, baby…Love you, too.”

Tig shut his phone and looked worriedly to Chibs.

“Venus went to the house. Says Cal’s bike isn’t there. She have plans today?” he asked.

The Vice President watched as a flash of worry crossed his brother’s face.

“Maybe. Probably just out and about. Maybe grabbing something to eat,” he replied.

“ _And probably sick of frozen corndogs_ ,” he thought to himself.

That did not pacify his concern, however. With hounds on Callie’s heels, it was not entirely safe to be riding alone, but he trusted she knew to watch her back, and could not keep her prisoner in his home. The anxiousness he felt to go hunt for her was enough for him to want to end church now and comb the streets of Charming for her.

“Yeah,” Tig agreed, though he was not too certain either.

Chibs cleared his throat and turned back to his crew.

“Right. Rat and Hap. Take the van. Head down to Huntington and get RJ’s stuff. And be careful.”

Ratboy and Happy nodded.

“Are we all good with putting RJ through a trial until we can decide on him becomin’ a Prospect?”

The men around the table nodded. Chibs cast his eyes towards RJ.

“Ya good with spendin’ some time with Juice for awhile?” he asked.

RJ nodded.

“‘Kay. Quinn will take ya to TM. Help ya get your tags changed. Ya can help them out today,” he replied.

RJ nodded again.

“We good?” Chibs asked his crew.

They nodded, and Chibs slammed the gavel down before standing and slipping out of Redwoody with only a wave to Lyla before he went outside, climbed on his bike, and drove straight into Charming on the hunt for a speeding black bullet shooting down the highway.

***

My ride around Charming ended downtown. I had not strayed far from Charming, and had snuck onto the track Tig had shown me to race around and clear my head. It worked. My brain went dead, and I was in my zen mode. When I returned to the streets, I felt refreshed, and after filling up on gas, I drove around with no real destination. I thought about heading up to Redwoody, but I wasn’t quite ready to be around people yet. I was enjoying my alone time.  
I found myself in a parking spot against a curb in the more historic area of Charming in front of a bakery that was currently having a cookie special. I had not had lunch, nor had I been hungry, but I could go for a cookie. So, I parked my bike and walked on in. The bakery itself was a froo-froo little shop, with pink and white striped walls, white everything, and different little baking related knickknacks and lace doilies. A woman behind the counter was packing a delivery box, a small TV turned on behind her. She matched the place. Pink shirt advertising the bakery under a white apron. I, on the other hand, looking so out of place that the woman shuddered a little when she saw me. I’m sure all black, including my hair, didn’t help. Not only that, but I was wearing my jacket, my blackouts readable under the fluorescent lighting. I’m the boys never came in here, and if so, not with colors. I’m sure I was a sight.  
I approached the display case, eyeing the many cookies, all decorated for Christmas. I looked up in thought, trying to remember the date. When it occurred to me it was the 23rd, I nearly shit myself. This month had gone by way too fast.

“Can I help you?”

I looked up to the see woman behind the display.

“Yeah. Can I get two chocolate chip and um, two sugar?” I asked.

She nodded and went to grab a couple of paper sacks and her tongs.

“Walnut chocolate chip or regular?” she asked.

“Just the regular,” I replied, fishing my wallet out of my pocket.

As she retrieved my cookies, I looked over to the TV. The news was playing, a picture of a motorcycle wheel with a red X over it in the corner screen above the news anchor. I furrowed my eyebrows and moved closer to hear.

“…Facebook page dedicated to making the streets once again safe for children and adults alike. The page was created by a couple of college graduates who say they are ‘sick and tired of the violence.’ The page is dedicated to spreading awareness of outlaw motorcycle gangs, as well as countless other street gangs. Project XMC hopes to one day rid California of gang activity, maybe as early as next Christmas.”

I felt my anger ignite. Those motherfuckers!

“Well, wouldn’t that be nice, Susanne?” the other anchor asked, “This page is taking Facebook by storm. Project XMC founder, Anthony Willingston, who we interviewed this morning says they want to spread the truth about just how dangerous these gangs can be, and hope to bring down some of the deadliest, including the notorious Sons of Anarchy. The gang’s Mother Charter, as we know, have been all over the news recently. Willingston says among their list of motorcycle gangs, the Sons of Anarchy will be one of the gangs to go extinct by Christmas of next year. What a cool Christmas present to us, huh?”

The woman brought my cookies to the register, looked to the TV, then gave me a once over, noting my front flashes. I stared daggers at TV.

“$4.35, ma’am,” she said.

I tore my eyes away from the television and handed her a five. She quickly gave me my change and I took my bags before storming out of the bakery.  
Fucking Project XMC! That was the last thing we needed up here. First The VII, and now them? They wouldn’t win, of course, but Jesus Christ!  
The sound of a Harley roaring up the block grabbed my attention. I looked up to see a familiar Dyna pull up beside mine, a more familiar person straddling it. I froze, immediately feeling guilty for joy-riding everywhere. I had not called, nor had I left a note. It was nearly 2:00 PM now. He had probably ridden home after church, saw that I wasn’t home, and freaked. I knew better. I should have at least left a note, as I was kind of wanted.

“Hey,” I said.

Chibs dismounted and set his helmet on the gas tank.

“Hey, Callie girl,” he said, his tone light and friendly.

Maybe I wasn’t in trouble.

Chibs approached me.

“I should have called you. I thought I’d be back before you got home,” I said.

Chibs smiled.

“You’re not a prisoner, darlin’,” he said.

He reached up and pushed a piece of hair down that I knew was sticking up on end from being abused by my helmet.

“What have ya been up to?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“Just riding. Then my sweet tooth took over. You want one?” I asked, holding the bags up.

He smiled and picked a sugar cookie.

“Thank-ya, sweetheart,” he said, taking a bite.

I selected a chocolate chip one and we stood in silence for a moment. Across the street, a guy in a Santa hat was standing by a Salvation Army donation bucket, ringing a bell incessantly.

“I fucking hate Christmas time,” I said with a mouthful of cookie.

Chibs laughed.

“Aye,” he said.

We finished our cookies and I folded the bags over.

“Come on. I have an idea,” he said.

I watched him curiously. He waved me over and I fell into step with him. He tossed an arm around my shoulder, and my skin immediately reacted with goosebumps. My dream rushed back to me, Zero’s words repeating in my mind and I smiled to myself.  
Chibs led me to a liquor store on the next block. I looked up at him questioningly. He smiled and shrugged.

“Christmas presents. Go pick whatever ya like. On me,” he replied, “We can have our own little Christmas party tomorrow.”

I snorted.

“You mean drink ’til we puke while watching Christmas specials?” I asked.

Chibs laughed and opened the door for me.

“Hell yeah,” he replied.

I laughed and entered the store. Chibs immediately grabbed a basket. He meant business.

***

A recap of the news report played on Christmas Eve afternoon. Chibs and I stood in the living room, catching the end of it. I had forgotten about it shortly after I left the bakery, and had meant to tell Chibs, but it slipped my mind. This was a different channel, different news reports, singing the praises of these little piss ants who thought they knew everything. The reports were reading excerpts from comments on the Facebook page, who were thanking the administrators of the Project XMC Facebook page for spreading awareness and everyone was claiming it was all about the children.

“They were showing this yesterday at the bakery. I meant to tell you,” I said.

Chibs was standing near the center of the room, arms crossed and tense.

“Fuckin’ yuppie shites,” he growled.

The report ended, and Chibs searched for the remote to shut the TV off.

“What do these little punks think they can get done with this? New laws passed? Protests?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“I’m beginning to wonder if this peaceful group is really not so peaceful,” I said.

Chibs nodded.

“We need to talk to RJ. He may know more,” he said.

I nodded in agreement. Chibs shut the TV off and carelessly tossed the remote into a nearby recliner before approaching me, walking behind me and holding onto my shoulders.

“C’mon. Let’s finish gettin’ this shit cut up. I’m starvin’.”

I smiled and turned to walk into the kitchen. We had come to a mutual agreement last night that Christmas was stupid and not worth it. He had said that he appreciated the history, ability to reconnect with family, and I agreed that there was some beauty behind it, but all of the money and greed and even sadness that came with it just made me wish we could skip it. Besides that, Chibs agreed that it was a waste of time to decorate and go through the traditional bullshit. Trees, scrounging for cash to get presents, the fucking wrapping paper, lights, and all of the other bullshit. It’s only for people who have kids or grandkids. However, he backed up on his argument a little when he came home today with sacks full of food. He thought Christmas dinner didn’t sound like a bad idea, now that he had someone to share with. And, as long as I helped. However, my hand was acting up today, and it made cutting onions extremely difficult.

“Shit,” I hissed as I tried to cut through a quarter of an onion.

The set of knuckles I had tried to force through the Prospect’s skull was already stiff, and after my long ride yesterday, it had ballooned, and my hand was nearly useless. I had meant to have Chibs look at it, but I thought the swelling would have gone down in my sleep. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” Chibs asked as he checked the ham.

I set the knife down and flexed my fingers. The pain wasn’t sharp, but it was there, and it cramped like almighty hell when I tried to grip anything. Not to mention, it was twice the size of my left set of knuckles. God, I hoped I hadn’t broken anything.  
Chibs appeared at my side. I turned to him and held my right hand up. His eyes widened and his jaw fell.

“Jesus Christ, Callie,” he said, gently taking my hand in his, “Was this from the other night?”

I nodded.

“Kid had a maxilla made of steel,” I replied.

He held my hand palm down and felt the swelling with his thumbs.

“You think anything’s broken?” I asked.

He shook his head, not really answering my question.

“Stretch your fingers for me,” he said.

I stretched my hand out.

“Hurt?” he asked.

I shook my head, watching my hand involuntarily shake.

“Not really,” I replied.

He studied my hand before nodding.

“Make a fist,” he ordered.

I closed my hand slowly, pain radiating and growing in intensity as the tendons stretched. He gritted his teeth as I tried to make a fist, but couldn’t hold it without my eyes watering.

“It’s severely bruised. Why didn’t ya show me this?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“Wasn’t bad until now,” I replied.

Chibs sighed and cut his eyes at me. He let go of my hand and reached for my jaw, smiling.

“What am I gonna do with ya?” he asked.

I just smiled at that. Chibs let go and pointed to the fridge.

“Go put some ice on it and relax. I can finish up here,” he said.

I opened my mouth to argue, but his eyebrow shot up his forehead, and I knew to shut up.

“I’m going, I’m going,” I said, defeated.

Chibs chuckled and took over cutting the onions while I grabbed a dish towel and made myself an ice pack.

I found myself watching _A Christmas Story_ when Chibs came in. I looked up at him to see him holding some of the bottles of alcohol we had bought yesterday between his fingers and two red Solo cups stacked together.

“Party time?” I asked.

“Aye,” he replied, setting the bottles down, “Food won’t be done for a little while, anyway.”

I nodded. Chibs looked over the bottle before selecting a bottle of scotch, which he already had. It was his favorite.

“Pick your poison, Callie girl,” he said.

I smiled and grabbed a bottle of something I should have never let Chibs get. He had no idea what it was. I just put it in the cart, but it had the potential to get anyone under 200 pounds fucked up. It was a pussy drink, but then again, I was too much of a pussy to drink the shit straight.

“What the hell is that?” Chibs asked.

I grinned.

“Lemon-lime vodka,” I replied.

Chibs rolled his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, girl!” he exclaimed, “Ya want to feel like shit in the mornin’.”

I laughed.

“It tastes just like 7Up,” I replied.

That will set your fucking mouth on fire.

“What proof is that?” he asked.

He tried to read the bottle, but I yanked it away.

“It’s up there,” I replied.

He groaned. I stood up to take my vodka with me as I went to take my icepack to the kitchen.

“Hey, we made a ton of food. I’ll be alright,” I said, and walked into the kitchen, “Besides, that scotch is 60%. That’s twice as much as this!”

“Shut up!” he snapped.

I laughed as I dumped the melting ice into the sink and draped the dish towel over the faucet before returning to the living room.

“Dissing my shit and you’re drinking that,” I bitched playfully.

Chibs just smiled.

I poured myself a little bit of vodka and sat down beside him on the couch.

“We need to make a drinkin’ game,” he said.

I laughed.

“We’re going to get fucked up,” I said.

“Hey. I can hold my alcohol. Ya throw up in this house and I am not cleanin’ up. That’s what Prospects do,” he said.

I laughed.

“Deal.”

Chibs and I settled into silence as he drank and watched the movie, laughing at some of the stupid bits and talking idly. Near the end of the movie, I was feeling pretty relaxed, and decided to get up and make sure I wasn’t drunk. When I stood, the room didn’t spin, but I decided to call it quits on the vodka, otherwise I would reach the point of no return, and Chibs would no doubt kick my ass. He was pretty relaxed, too, and had a little bit more to drink than I had. You could see the effects from the droopiness of his eyelids and the pink in his cheeks. I’m sure I didn’t look much different. However, he was a lot sillier when tipsy.  
I went to the kitchen to get some water and check the timer on the ham. Then, I took my water back to the living room.

“Thirty minutes,” I announced.

Chibs let out this high-pitched cry and flopped face first into the couch cushions, his entire body stretched across the couch.

“M’ hungry!” he whined.

I walked up to him as I sipped my water.

“Would you get up? I need somewhere to sit,” I said.

Of course, there were two other chairs, but it was awkward sitting and trying to talk across the room.  
Chibs moved his head, smearing his face across the leather to breathe, his face red now.

“No,” he stubbornly replied.

“Fine, then I’ll sit on you,” I said.

Chibs cut his eyes at me.

“Do ya really think it’ll make me sit up?” he asked.

I think he was expecting an arguement—to get a rise out of me. However, when I turned around and plopped down on top of him, he yelped in surprise.

“What the fuck?” he exclaimed.

I crossed my legs, settling in his lower back. I wasn’t aware of any back problems, so I hoped he didn’t have any, or I’d feel bad about being an ass to him.

“I warned you,” I sang.

Chibs growled.

“Ya think you’re just so clever, yeah?”

I giggled.

“I am,” I said cockily.

I made the mistake of sitting on his back instead of his legs. He probably could have crawled out from under me with no problem, but with his legs free, he was able to get to his knees, push himself up and send me tumbling sideways. With the alcohol in my system, I rolled off with ease and a brief inability to catch myself, or hang on and push him back down. I ended up landing on a cushion sideways in a fit of giggles. Chibs was also laughing at me.

“Think you’re so tough now?” he asked.

I reached a leg out to kick him, but he caught my ankle. I twisted onto my back, realizing I was in trouble when he didn’t leg go, and I couldn’t break away from his grip.

“Chibs, come on!” I whined.

“What’s the meanin’ of tryin’ to kick me? You’re so violent,” he said.

“You started it!”

“And I’m tempted to finish it!” he retorted.

He attempted to grab my other ankle, but I quickly twisted out of grip and fell into the floor. Chibs scoffed at me.

“Jesus,” he grumbled.

I turned around and crawled to sit in front of him.

“You win! Take the damn couch!”

Chibs laughed at me.

“Ya mad at me, love?” he asked, leaning over to hold my shoulders.

I pretended to pout.

“Fuck you, Filip,” I said.

Chibs just laughed. I sat with my back against the couch and looked up to watch the movie when a dumb question flew into my mind. My sober self would never ask it.

“Anyone ever call you Phil?” I asked, leaning me head back, looking up at him upside-down, the back of my head brushing the side of his leg.

He gave me this cold stare that took all of me not to laugh at. He didn’t speak for a moment, and I thought he may have actually gotten mad at me for a second.

“You’re a mean drunk,” he said.

I scoffed.

“I am not drunk!” I laughed.

A smile tugged at Chibs’ lips.

“Well, you’re mean!” he retorted.

I burst out laughing.

“Shit! I just like taking the piss out of you,” I said.

Chibs smiled and pushed my head away. I laughed and looked up at the movie.

“Why me?” he asked.

“Because you’re my best friend,” I replied.

Again, another thing sober me might not have said, but it wasn’t like I didn’t mean it.

As I reached for my water, I heard the leather creak as Chibs laid back down. I looked back at him to see him lay down on his side, propping his head up on his hand. He was watching me with a certain curiosity, his playfulness now fading away.

“Just friends?” he asked.

I was taking a drink of my water and nearly choked in surprise. Thank God it wasn’t vodka, or I would have ruined my vocal chords.  
I set my cup back down on the coffee table and turned to the side to face him.

“What?” I asked.

A look of fear—a look I had never seen on him, flashed across his face. He shook his head and moved to lay on his back, looking away from me.

“Nevermind,” he said.

“No, wait,” I said.

Chibs looked at me in surprise. I turned around fully and sat on my knees, my heart beating a mile a minute.

“What did you mean?” I asked.

Chibs reached up a carefully touched the side of my face. He had touched my face countless times, but this time was different. It was with absolute tenderness and the loving look on his face that made my racing heart skid to a stop.

“My feelings are more than that, sweetheart. And ya should kick me in the dick for making all of those comments about ya bein’ hot, because that was disrespectful of me.”

He turned back over to lean on his shoulder, keeping his eyes locked with mine as he let his hand drop.

“I think you’re beautiful, Callie. I’ve thought so since we found ya,” he confessed.

He reached up to brush my hair out of my face and ran a finger lightly over the scar on my temple.

“That’s where my heart is,” he finished quietly.

I let out a shaky breath and took his hand with my good hand.

“Sit up,” I said, tapping his side with my bad hand.

Chibs quietly sat up and turned to sit forward, providing me a spot to sit beside him. I climbed up on the couch. He watched my every move.

“You mean that?” I asked.

He nodded slowly.

“Absolutely,” he replied.

I gave him a small smile, really not believing anything that was happening.

“It’s okay if that’s not where your heart is, but I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore,” he said, looking away.

I immediately wanted to rip my heart out of my chest and give it to him.

“Filip, look at me,” I said.

Chibs looked at me with those sweet, sad eyes of his.

“I owe you everything, and I care about you so much. You are a sweet, loving man. I saw that my first week here. My heart has been there since. I never thought you felt anything for me, so I never said anything.”

Chibs sat up and turned slightly to face me.

“Really?” he asked.

I nodded. He took my face in my hands, almost able to encompass my entire head in his palms. My heart jolted as I took his wrists. He looked so vulnerable in that moment as he studied my face. He had experienced so much heartbreak. So much death. He always had to be tough for the public eye, but all of that was shaking and shattering. I’d give him everything if I could. I’d do anything for him, and I was in for the long haul if he let me in.

“Ya know you’re stuck with me, then,” he said, a small smile forming on his lips.

I smirked a reached a tentative hand out to touch his cheek. I had been so careful to avoid his scars, as I didn’t know how he felt about people touching them. I let my hand finally touch the left side of his face, over his longer, but shallower scar. I kept my eyes locked with his as I ran my finger across it, feeling the slight groove that Jimmy O’ Phelan had carved in his face. His eyes fluttered closed and he sighed a little as he leaned into my hand.

“That’s okay with me,” I said softly.

He opened his eyes and lifted his head, smiling. He reached up to take my hand, and gently rubbed it when he saw that it was my injured hand.

“Ya sure, Callie girl?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

I just smirked.

“I think I can handle being Chibs Telford’s Old Lady,” I said lowly.

Chibs smile widened, and for the first time, I noticed the dimples on the side of his face.

He let go of my hand and cupped my cheeks. He moved closer to my face and I could feel his fingers readjust around the back of my head. He lowered his head to mine and hovered for a second, his lips just over mine. I waited patiently, knowing this was as big of a step for him as it was for me. I reached up and tentatively held his shoulders. Chibs closed what little space was between us and pressed his lips to mine.  
It was soft and almost shy at first, as if he was trying this out for the first time in years. I hadn’t kissed anyone in six years, and yet, when he found his footing a deepened the kiss, I remembered exactly what to do. It was tender and loving, yet rough from his facial hair. Not much different from his personality, and I was certain it was not the vodka that had my head swimming. My hands moved up from his shoulders to the side of his neck as we broke away to breathe.  
He watched me for a moment, as if waiting for me to change my mind and regret kissing him. When I smiled, he smiled.

“I love you, Callie,” he said.

I moved a piece of brown and silver that had fallen behind his ear.

“I love you, too, Filip,” I replied.

Chibs sighed and attempted to kiss me again when the timer in the kitchen went off. We looked in the direction of the kitchen, then he looked back at me.

“Dinner time, love,” he said.

I smiled and Chibs took my hand. We stood and I followed him into the kitchen.

The rest of the night consisted watching a few Christmas specials and drinking a little bit more before we nodded off on the couch. Chibs passed out before I did. I was curled up against his side, his arm around my waist. Things were about to change, as if they hadn’t already. Not just things with the club, but our personal lives. Anything can happen in this life, and a relationship had to be strong to survive. In mine and Chibs’ case, I believed we could make it. We were bonded through life debt, through respect, through scars, though the brotherhood of the Reaper, but most importantly, through a friendship that sealed a lot of old wounds we both had that had never truly healed. Now, I believe they were finally closed. I was stuck with him, and that was perfectly okay with me.


	19. Strike 1

“Shit!”

L looked up from his desk to the man on the bed, sitting cross legged with a laptop in his lap, where he had spent the last five hours after an alert that had the entire club on lockdown.

“What?” L asked.

Tino began typing away, his eyes scanning the screen.

“Goddammit!” he shouted, “Look at this shit!”

L stood up from the chair and walked over to Tino. Tino looked up at the VP and pointed to the screen.

“Lost Mike. He’s offline now,” he said.

L snarled.

“Fuck!” he spat.

Just five hours prior, after expecting to see all three Prospects back with their prisoner in tow, RJ’s tracker had gone offline, putting the club on high alert.

“We need to find Casey, man. Where is he?” L asked.

Tino put a marker on Casey and zoomed in, pointing to the red blip on the screen.

“There,” he replied.

L groaned.

“That’s that abandoned parking garage,” he said.

“What the hell is he doing there?” Tino asked.

L shook his head and got up, going after his jacket.

“I don’t know, but ten bucks says this the fucking XMC. Running Jojo off the road. Killing our Prospects! They never even made it to Charming!”

Tino set his laptop aside.

“What are you gonna do?” he asked.

“I’m going to go fucking get Casey. You stay here and keep an eye on him,” he said.

Tino scoffed and shut his laptop.

“Fuck that! No one rides alone. I’m going with you,” he argued.

L rolled his eyes.

“Fine, but call Shane. Let him know,” he said.

Tino nodded and grabbed his jacket with one hand and his phone with the other, calling Shane.

“Dude, I was just about to call you,” Shane answered.

“Really? We got some shit going down,” Tino replied.

“Yeah. No shit! Jojo and I went looking for RJ and we spoke to his landlord and you want believe this. Fucking RJ’s dead, man! They got a call the other morning. Must have been from the coroner.”

“Shit!” Tino hissed, “So it’s safe to assume Mike’s dead, too?”

“What happened to Mike?” Shane asked.

“He went offline a few minutes ago. The only one left is Casey. We’re going to go get him,” he replied.

“Goddammit! Yeah, get him. This has got to be these XMC motherfuckers. Get Casey and get him back to my place. And be careful. We got the fucking cops on our asses for AJ’s murder still,” Shane replied.

“Got it,” Tino replied and hung up.

L gave his brother a questioning look.

“RJ’s dead,” Tino said.

L gritted his teeth.

“Come on. If we don’t get Casey, we’re next.”

Tino nodded and followed the taller man out the door.

***

Venus Van Dam loved glamor and fashion—much like any woman. She had loved dressing up since her days as a young Vincent Noone, who, when he actually got the chance and was not being harassed by his “Dear Mother Alice,” he would sneak off to his room and play with his cheap nail polishes, small lipsticks, and don a few pretty blouses and dresses he had managed to acquire. It was for fun, and it was for an escape. He could not explain it at the time, but it made him feel at peace with himself. Now, Venus understood, and embraced who she was. A man who knew she was a woman, and as much as she loved herself, and as much as Tig loved her for who she was, her clients also loved it. However, they loved it for different reasons.  
Venus encountered all kinds of people in her line of work, which is how she discovered her dear Alexander Trager in the first place. She served anyone who needed Venus love, and had acquired a line of loyal customers who trusted her, and she them. Men of all walks of life. Some, like Tig, who simply loved the way she talked in the bedroom. Some sought her dominatrix routine, not giving a shit if she was transgender. They just liked being punished. Some had a bit of a kink for transgender women. She had a handful of services for everyone’s needs, but when it came down to it, it was still prostitution, and though it was good money, it was dirty, but she knew that. There was nothing glamorous about it.  
It was the day after Christmas, and Venus had a new client tonight. As she pulled up to a hotel in Charming she had provided service at countless times before, she pulled a folded note out of the cup holder, reading the information she had scribbled down in her rush to get Tig to TM to pick up his bike. Room 17. Gerard Lambert. Venus scrunched her face, noting how pretentious the name sounded. Her initial thought was that he was another man of religious looking to feed into his sins. She had had that happen a few times before.  
She pulled into a parking spot just next to the door of Room 17 and shut her engine off. She straightened her low cut top and long black coat, checked herself in the mirror, then grabbed her clutch and keys and climbed out of the car.

“Oh, the glory of Charming,” she sighed to herself.

She really was not in the mood, but it was hard to pass up any kind of money. She just wanted to suck his dick and get back home.  
Venus knocked on the door. The curtains were closed, but she could see slivers of light through the cracks. She could hear movement inside, and when the door opened, she was surprised to find, not so much a man, but a boy who had to be no older than 25. Her night had suddenly turned around. An younger, slimmer, and far more attractive client was a nice change of pace.

“Gerard?” she drawled.

The young man smiled.

“Venus?” he asked.

“At your pleasure,” she replied sassily.

Gerard smiled and welcomed her in. He was a tall guy. Her height in heels. Short brown, wavy hair, neatly combed. He wore a crimson sweater, a white top underneath, the collar of which was pulled through the collar of the sweater. He even wore khaki slacks, which to Venus was quite strange. He looked more like a man of money and business than her usually sleazes that needed a quickie. This was indeed a nice change.

“And what can I do for you, young man?” she asked.

Gerard smiled.

“Just make yourself comfortable. I’ll be ready in a moment,” he said.

Venus was a surprised. Gerard walked off to the bathroom, leaving her by herself. She was more than amused with this guy.

“Don’t mind if do,” she said.

She set her clutch and car keys on the table beside the window and shrugged off her coat, folding it and draping it neatly over the back of a chair before crossing the room and sitting on the foot of the bed.  
When the bathroom door opened again, Venus looked up at the mirror over the dresser, which gave her a view of the bathroom. The light was out and she could barely make out the outline the man. She craned her neck to see, and was about to ask if everything was okay when Gerard shot out of the bathroom like a bullet. Venus never had a chance to comprehend what was happening when she was struck across the jaw by what felt like a pipe. She cried out in pain as the assault continued, and tried to back away from the weapon by sliding up the bed and shielding herself with her arms.

“Stop! Please! What are you doing?” she cried out.

Gerard stopped long enough for Venus to open her eyes and see the shower curtain rod from the bathroom in his hands. He dropped it, climbed up on the bed, and threw Venus into the floor. Outraged, Venus forgot herself, and her anger came uncorked. Anyone who knew Venus knew she could fly off the handle, and that she did. She growled and attacked Gerard scratching, kicking, throwing punches, but he was just as quick, and just as strong, and soon had her down on the ground. He kicked her in the stomach, stomped on her back, and beat her face bloody. Venus had a switchblade in her clutch, as well as mace, but it was no use to her.  
When Venus was in too much pain to fight back, Gerard stopped and marched over to an end table, grabbing a lamp and yanking the cord from the wall, causing the bedroom area to go dark, with only the light about the sink outside of the bathroom to see by.

“Let this be a lesson to your precious SAMCRO,” Gerard growled.

He walked over to Venus and held the lamp in the air.

“You tell them to disband, or they die, and you die,” he threatened.

Venus could not reply, and did not when Gerard broke the lamp over head, knocking her out cold.

***

“Chibs!” I called from my room.

It was early morning, and we were preparing to head down to Stockton to check in at Diosa. I was ready to go. Dressed, hair done, face done. Way too much caffeine in my system. Now, as I waited for Chibs to get ready, all I wanted was a cigarette. Unfortunately, I could not find my damn lighter, and had overturned the back porch, kitchen, bathroom, and now, my room looking for it. Chibs couldn’t hear me, as he was outside checking something on his bike.  
I flew out of my room and into the living room, thinking that I might have left it in there, and knowing that that lighter snitching Scottish bastard had it somewhere on him. He had misplaced his new Zippo, and I refused to buy him another.

“You are so dead if I don’t find my lighter!” I shouted, no one hearing.

I went straight for the couch, flung the pillows onto one of the recliners, and began disassembling the couch. To my surprise, I found a lighter. And one of Chibs’ rings and some crumbs that needed to be vacuumed out. It wasn’t my lighter, but the Harley Zippo. I picked it up along with the ring and shook my head.

“You’re dead, Filip,” I said to myself.

I made a half-assed attempt to reassemble the couch before marching out of the room and down the hall to the door. When I stepped outside, I found Chibs wiping some dried bird shit from the seat.

“Everything good?” I asked.

Chibs looked up at me and nodded.

“Aye. Need to go in for an oil change, but other than that, everything’s golden,” he replied.

I walked up to his side and his arm automatically snaked around my waist. I turned to face him, pretending I was going to kiss him as I drove my hand into the breast pocket of his cut and produced a little pink lighter. Guilt washed over his face as I held the lighter up.

“You’re a little sneak,” I said.

“I was gonna give it back,” he replied.

“Where’s your new one?” I asked.

His eyes darted around before he looked down in shame. I bit my lip trying not to laugh.

“Probably in the bottom of the laundry basket. I’ll find it,” he replied.

I smiled.

“You better,” I teased.

I began to pull away when he grabbed my arm.

“Just a sec,” he said.

I looked back at him in confusion. He smirked and pulled me closer before his lips landed on mine. I just smiled and reached up to hold his cheeks. The entire Christmas holiday, we had done nothing but drink, lay around, and were just all around gross. Like two teenagers discovering making out for the first time, and as disgusting as it was, I loved every second of it, and I think Chibs jumped at every chance he got.

“If you’re still wantin’ to buy TM, I can set up a meet with Wendy,” he said.

I felt my eyes widen.

“Really?” I asked.

He nodded.

“I can have Tig take the guys down to Diosa. We can skip it. I can call her and we can take her and the boys for breakfast and discuss business.”

I nodded slowly, his words sinking in.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, if she’s available,” I replied.

Chibs smiled.

“Give me a second, then,” he said.

I nodded and he took my chin, pecking my lips before we parted and I ducked back inside to use the bathroom before we left, now in possession of two lighters. I was going to have fun with this.  
When I returned outside with my gloves on and helmet in tow, Chibs was shutting his phone.

“She said yes,” he announced.

I nodded.

“Cool. Where?” I asked.

“Diner. Downtown. The one that served the pussy sandwich,” he replied.

I stopped in my tracks and burst out laughing. There was a small diner in downtown Charming that was club friendly, and we came in often. One night we decided to have dinner there, and the guy behind us order the fish sandwich. Chibs had said it smelled like Redwoody when you sit out on the roof and the wind was blowing off of the water in the bay. I had popped off and said that it smelled more like the inside. He just glared at me. Redwoody smelled like cigarettes more than anything, but still. The comment made him turn red and if I had been male, he might have kicked me under the table. Since then, he had joked about ordering the thing, making me gag just thinking about it.

“Sounds good,” I said and mounted my bike.

“The pussy sandwich?” he asked, mounting his own bike.

“No!” I laughed, “The diner.”

Chibs grinned and buckled his chin strap. I reached into my pocket, moved my phone over and grabbed the Zippo. Chibs wasn’t paying attention as I opened it and lit it, examining the flame and smelling the pungent scent of the lighter fluid.

“This is a cool little lighter,” I said.

Chibs looked up at me. His eyes settled on the lighter before he looked away. A few seconds later, he realized what I had and his head snapped back up.

“Is that my lighter?” he asked.

I just grinned.

“Have ya had it this whole time?” he asked, his voice raising in pitch.

I laughed and closed it.

“No! I found it in the couch cushions,” I replied.

Chibs rolled his eyes. I’m sure he had stuffed it in his jeans pocket and it had fallen out. Most likely when we were drinking and passed out on the couch Christmas Eve.

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned as I started my bike, “Can I have it back?”

I just gave him a shit-eating grin as I started my bike.

“You’re gonna have to catch me first, sweetheart,” I said.

I eyed the bike he had chosen today, being the Touring Street Glide, much like the one I used to own, that he had kept under a tarp until now. I knew neither it, nor the Dyna could catch me.

“Callie!” he exclaimed.

I laughed, but my helmet on, and started off down the driveway. I could just hear him calling me a “little shite” as I pulled out onto the road.

When we pulled into the parking lot of the diner, I beat Chibs by a minute. The diner was busy, people who caught the early rush now leaving, and the people who wanted to eat at a decent hour now coming in. I parked and dismounted, placing my helmet on the gas tank as I watched Chibs pull in. He parked slightly behind me, both of us able to fill and entire parking spot. Saved space.

“Ya better watch it,” Chibs said, “You’re gonna get pulled over for speeding.”

I shot him a glare.

“Oh, please!”

Chibs smiled and put his helmet on his gas tank.

“Can I have my lighter back now?” he asked.

I smiled.

“If you’re good,” I said.

Chibs rolled his eyes. The fact that this was bugging him so much made it all the more fun. I really wanted him to have it back and use it as he wished, but I didn’t want him to lose it, nor did I want him to steal my lighter again, so this was going to be a lesson.  
Chibs gripped my shoulders.

“Come on. Let’s get inside,” he said.

I led the way to the front door and he opened it for me. We walking through a small entryway, which had bulletin boards and flyers on the walls, and few candy machines, and a rack of home and automobile sales catalogues. Through the second door was the actual restaurant, which smelled thickly of coffee and bacon.  
We looked around before Chibs reached a hand up and pointed.

“There she is,” he said.

I spotted Wendy at a corner window, Thomas sitting beside her. Chibs put a hand on the small of my bike and we weaved through people and table, reaching her as he helped Thomas hold a crayon and draw on a placemat with two cowboys on bacon horses trying to wrangle runaway eggs. Oh, the dumb shit they make kids do.  
When Wendy looked up and saw us, she smiled and stood up.

“Hey,” she said.

I smiled and shook her hand.

“Hey, thanks for coming down,” I replied.

She waved me off.

“It was no problem,” she said.

Chibs leaned over to kiss her cheek.

“Where’s the little monkey man?” he asked, I assumed meaning Abel.

“Oh, he’s with Nero. He has a cold, so I asked Nero to come watch him. He can stay home and play with his new toys before he’s stuck at school again,” she replied.

Chibs just nodded. We sat down across from her and Thomas and a waitress came by to take our orders.

“Nero’s in Charmin’?” Chibs asked when the waitress left.

Thomas made a small sound and handed Wendy a crayon. She smiled and took it.

“Yeah, he spent Christmas up here with Lucius. He finishes rehab soon and he can come home. Nero was going to help me move out of my apartment and get at least Jax’s place sold. It’s going to be difficult. No one likes to buy places with ghosts.”

“There are very few places on this Earth that are ghost free, and people buy houses all the time. Someone will grab it,” Chibs said.

Wendy smiled.

“Oh, I’m not too worried about it. It’s TM I’m worried about,” she replied.

Chibs looked down at me and smirked. My turn, I guess.

“Well, have you had any offers?” I asked.

Wendy shook her head.

“No, and the real estate agent said I could only get maybe 300 grand. The only way to get it up is to put some work in it, and I don’t have that kind of cash,” she replied.

“Well, maybe we can help,” Chibs said.

Wendy looked between Chibs and I in confusion.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

I folded my arms on the table and leaned closer.

“I’ll buy it off you,” I said.

Wendy’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

“What?” she asked.

“I’ll buy it off of you. The boys need the garage and I’ve offered to rebuild the clubhouse,” I replied.

Wendy was speechless for a moment.

“Y-you’d do that?” she asked in disbelief.

“I can write you a check right now. How much do you want for it?” I asked.

Wendy was in absolute shock.

“Jesus! I don’t know. I mean, I’d have to talk to the real estate agent and everything…Is this club money?” she asked.

“Just hers,” Chibs replied.

Wendy looked from him to me and back again. Chibs put a hand on my back.

“I’m gonna go wash my hands,” he said.

I nodded and watched him get up and leave. We watched until he was out of sight.

“You’d really do this? Give them their clubhouse back?” she asked.

I nodded.

“They deserve it,” I replied.

Wendy smiled.

“My God, Callie. You have no idea what they’ve been through. What that place means to them. Do they know?” she asked.

I nodded.

“They probably still don’t believe me, but they’ll see. So long as you want to sell it to me,” I said.

Wendy smiled widely.

“How much do you want for it?” I asked.

Wendy took a deep breath.

“I want to try to get 300k out it,” she replied.

I nodded.

“‘Kay. I’ll pay you double,” I replied.

Wendy looked like she might faint.

“What?” she breathed out.

“You need that cash, and that’s how much the place would be worth if it was updated. $600,000,” I said.

“Callie, I can’t ask that much of you! That place isn’t worth shit,” she said.

“I know how hard it is for single moms. And raising two boys? Putting them through school? Hell, even just feeding them!”

Wendy laughed at that.

“Just take it,” I said.

Wendy’s eyes watered.

“I don’t know what to say,” she said quietly.

“Just don’t tell Chibs,” I said.

Wendy laughed and nodded.

“Yeah. Okay, it’s yours. We can finish up with the real estate agent this afternoon, if you’re available,” she replied.

I nodded.

“Give me a when and where,” I said.

Wendy smiled, then, to my surprise, got up, moved around the table and quickly hugged me. I was a little taken aback by the gesture, but embraced her when the initial shock wore off.

“Thank-you,” she said.

“You’re welcome.”

She sat back down with Thomas and helped him flip the paper placemat over so he could color on fresh pictures. The waitress came with our food and passed the plates out. I reached into my pocket and set Chibs’ Zippo on his napkin. Wendy gave me a questioning look.

“His punishment for stealing my lighter,” I said, “I was holding it hostage all morning.”

Wendy laughed.

“You two seem to be pretty close,” she said, cutting into Thomas’ food so he could have baby-friendly piece of toast, “I noticed that back at the funeral. He’s a sweetheart.”

I nodded, cutting into my pancakes, not saying a word about our two day old relationship.

“Yeah,” was all I said.

Wendy picked up Thomas’s sippy-cup and held it to his mouth.

“You don’t have to answer, but is there something going on there?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

I had no idea how or even if I should answer that, but had no chance to answer when Chibs returned and sat down.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he said, “Ya make a deal?”

Wendy and I nodded.

“We’re going to talk to her real estate agent this afternoon. After everything’s said and done, I’ll see if I can find someone to come out and look at the clubhouse,” I replied.

Chibs nodded and looked down at his plate. When he went for his silverware, he found the lighter. He snatched it up immediately and stared at me.

“I can have it back?” he asked.

I smiled.

“Don’t lose it again.”

Chibs smiled and leaned over to peck my lips, forgetting Wendy was watching everything. When he looked up and saw the sly smile on her face, he looked down and quickly stabbing into his food.

“Dammit,” he growled.

Wendy just chuckled.

“I knew it,” she said.

Neither of us said anything more, and Wendy changed the subject. We exchanged contact information, talked about some of the fun times with the club before everything went to hell, and the boys.  
At the end of breakfast, Chibs was in the middle of telling Wendy about something dumb Jax had done once when his cell phone rang. He excused himself and answered.

“Hey…What?” he exclaimed.

Wendy and I looked up at him worriedly.

“…What about Diosa?…Jesus Christ, Tiggy…Okay, we’re comin’,” he said and closed his phone.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Venus never came home last night. Tig went lookin’ for her and found her car at a motel, tires slashed. He’s gettin’ the owner to unlock the door now. We gotta go,” he said.

“Shit!” I hissed.

Chibs pulled out his wallet and laid a $50 on the table and apologized to Wendy.

“No, I understand. You guys go,” she said.

We stood up and I threw my jacket back on.

“I’ll call you, Wendy,” I said.

She nodded.

“Okay. Whenever you get the chance, Callie,” she replied.

I nodded. Thomas looked up at me and grinned. I waved to him and he giggled before I followed Chibs out the door.

“Which motel?” I asked.

“Just follow me,” he ordered.

I nodded and went straight for my bike, throwing my helmet on and ripping out behind Chibs. I followed him down to an old motel just passed the police department. The parking lot was empty, save for two Dynas, and a flashing ambulance. Chibs and I parked, not caring that our bikes were on the lines, and ran up to the commotion just as paramedics were wheeling someone out of the room. When Tig came out to her side, I knew it was Venus. Rat was standing by, watching.

“Holy shit!” Chibs exclaimed.

The paramedics loaded Venus into the back of the ambulance, a worried and outraged Tig standing by.

“What the hell happened?” Chibs asked.

“Some goddamn bastard beat the shit out of her,” he snarled.

“Is she alive?” I asked.

“Just barely,” he replied, “I’m following them to St. Thomas. I’ve called the others already.”

Chibs clapped a hand on Tig’s shoulder.

“We’re right behind ya, brother,” he said.

Tig nodded. Chibs turned to Rat and I pointed to our bikes.

“Let’s go,” he ordered.

We nodded and ran to our bikes, following the wailing ambulance out of the parking lot and to the hospital.

Tig was distraught. His mind wasn’t in the right place. He couldn’t function or focus on anything until he watched the paramedics wheel Venus inside. He tried to follow, but the nurses had said no, and he had to be held back by Chibs and Happy.

“Easy, brother. We gotta wait,” Chibs said.

Tig gnashed his teeth and shook his head.

“I swear to God, if we lose her…”

“We won’t,” Chibs said sternly.

Tig took a deep breath.

“Whoever did this is going to pay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave some love!


	20. New Discoveries

It was hours before we heard anything. As soon as Venus was admitted and Tig finally finished the paperwork for Venus, almost the entire club found themselves in a waiting area, which was fairly quiet, with only medical staff bustling by, and us. Tig, Chibs and I sat on a teal vinyl couch, looking like toppled dominos, as I was laying my head on Chibs’ shoulder, and Tig on mine. Rane stood nearby, pacing and guarding us. The man was 6’ 5” and looked like he could pull a semi. No one messed with him. Rat and T.O. sat on the couch across from us, and Montez and Hap sat in a couple of chairs. Juice and RJ were told to stay at TM until closing so they could stay caught up, and then come straight to the hospital unless things changed. So for now, it was just eight of us.  
Tig had stared off into space for a long time. So long, in fact, that it worried me, and I tapped Chibs’ shoulder to get his attention. Chibs looked down at me and I pointed to Tig, silently asking what was up. Chibs looked at Tig and shook his head.

“He’s okay,” he whispered.

I looked down at Tig and laid my head in his mess of curls.

“I can’t loose her, Callie. I can’t,” he said weakly.

“You won’t, Tiggy,” I replied, putting a comforting arm around his shoulders.

“I should have gone out to look for her,” he said distantly.

Chibs shifted and tilted his head forward to look around me to Tig.

“When was she supposed to be home?” he asked.

Tig shrugged.

“About 11:00. I stayed up all night waiting for her. I knew something was wrong. I should’ve—“

I laid a hand on the side of Tig’s face as a means to shush his frantic ranting.

“It’s okay. She’s safe now,” I said.

“She could’ve died,” he whispered.

I gently pushed Tig off of my shoulder so I could look him in the eye. He just kept shaking his head, keeping his eyes cast down.

“Tig, look at me,” I said firmly.

Tig’s clear blue eyes flashed up to meet mine.

“She was there for hours. If the blow had been fatal, she would have already left,” I said.

Tig’s eyes watered.

“She was there for hours, and I did nothing,” he breathed out.

I sighed and hugged him.

“How the hell am I supposed to take care of her, when I couldn’t even take care of my kids?” he asked, sobbing now.

I felt Chibs lean over, one hand holding my shoulder, the other on Tig’s.

“Tiggy, ya stop this right now. She’ll be okay. Ya understand me?” he said strictly.

I felt Tig nod. Chibs straightened up and Tig lifted his head. We settled back down like toppled dominos, Tig silently crying on my shoulder. I kept one arm around him and the other around Chibs’ arm. Chibs reached down and held my hand, and there was stayed until the late afternoon when a doctor came out.

“Mr. Trager?” he asked.

Tig had been dozing in and out of consciousness when he shot straight up, suddenly awake.

“Yes? How is she?” he asked, his words rushed.

The rest of us stood and gathered around the doctor. He looked uneasy, but I assumed he knew not to say anything.

“She’s doing fine now. She’s stable. We ran several tests. She does have a concussion, a cracked rib, her left hand is fractured, and she has some severe bruising, but by the looks of it, it’s nothing that won’t heal up. She should be good as new in a couple of weeks.”

Tig sighed in relief.

“Thank God!” he breathed out, clutching his chest.

Chibs clapped a hand on the VP’s shoulder.

“If you wait a moment, a nurse will be by to take you back,” the doctor said.

Tig nodded and thanked the doctor.

Across the hall, the doors opened and Juice and RJ walked in. I slipped away from the guys to join them.

“Hey, what’s going on? How’s Venus?” Juice asked.

I stopped in front of the boys and put my hands in my pockets.

“Doctor said she’d be okay. She has a concussion and some fractures, but she’s okay,” I replied.

Juice nodded.

“Well, at least something good happened today,” he said.

I tilted my head to the side.

“What happened?” I asked.

Juice watched me worriedly. A nurse came out and took Tig back to see Venus.

“Come on. Everyone needs to know,” he said.

I nodded. Juice let the way back to the guys.

“Hey, I need to tell you guys something,” he said.

The crew looked to Juice with concerned expressions.

“What’s goin’ on, Juicey?” Chibs asked.

Juice shifted nervously.

“I got a call earlier. SAMDINO. They were attacked at their clubhouse this morning. Bunch of young guys with guys. From what they saw they were white. Three of the guys are in the hospital. Packer’s dead. Found him with an ‘FR’ carved in his chest.”

Chibs looked down at the floor in shock. I felt my jaw drop and I looked away. FR? No…

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered.

“What does ‘FR’ mean?” Happy asked.

“Freak Riders,” RJ and I said in unison.

“Who?”

“The Freak Riders,” I replied, “They were allies with The VII.”

“And they would never do this. They didn’t have any beef with the Sons,” RJ said, “This same shit happened with AJ. They tried to blame The VII for his murder, but I was with them that night. We were on a product run in Vegas.”

Chibs looked up at me.

“So they’re not as peaceful as we thought,” he said.

I nodded, understanding what he was talking about.

“Who?” Juice asked.

“This is XMC written all over it. Trying to lay blame on other clubs. Start wars so we’ll all kill each other and they can publicly say ‘We told you so’,” I said.

Chibs nodded.

“They’re smart,” he said.

“And San Bernardino isn’t that far from Huntington Beach. This is where all the shit is coming from,” RJ said.

“‘Kay, Juice, call everyone. Put them on high alert and tell them to spread the word,” Chibs said.

Juice nodded.

“Should we lockdown?” Happy asked.

Chibs shook his head.

“Not yet,” he replied, “All of ya go ahead and go home. Cal and I’ll make sure Tiggy gets home safely. I’ll leave one of ya here with Venus tonight.”

The crew nodded.

“RJ and I’ll hang around. Wait for you guys,” Juice said.

Chibs just nodded. The rest of the crew said their goodbyes before heading back down the hall.

We resumed our spots on the chairs in the waiting area, none of really talking. Chibs made a call to the San Bernardino charter to check in. After, it was nothing but silence until Tig appeared around the corner.

“Hey, Chibby? Cal? You wanna come see Venus for a moment? You’re gonna wanna hear this,” he said.

We nodded and stood up, leaving Juice and RJ to themselves. We followed Tig through a set of doors and down the hall to Venus’ room. As we walked, the bland colors and the smell of hospital getting to me, I had to take a deep, calming breath. I knew I wasn’t going to be staying long unless I wanted to pass out.  
Chibs gave me a worried look.

“Ya okay, love?” he asked quietly.

I looked up at him and nodded.

“Yeah, hospitals just give me the creeps,” I replied.

Chibs stopped me.

“Ya don’t have to come in if you can’t handle it. Ya can go back with RJ and Juicey,” he replied.

I shook my head. I at least wanted to say hi to Venus.

“I’ll be alright. I’m good.”

Chibs gave me a small smile and held me around the waist. We followed Tig into Venus’ room. She was laying still on the bed, her face blue and black, swollen, a bandage across her forehead. One hand was in a cast. A breathing tube was running up her nose. She didn’t even look like herself.

“Jesus,” Chibs whispered.

Venus roused and opened her eyes. She smiled when she saw us.

“Oh, Filip. Sweet Callie. Come here,” she said weakly, holding up her arms.

I went to the side opposite of Tig to hug her. Chibs walked up to her and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“What monster did this to ya?” Chibs asked.

Venus let out a painful breath.

“His name was Gerard. I don’t remember the last name. He called me up to the motel. Told me to wait while he prepared himself in the bathroom. When he came back, he laid out his assault…gave me a message.”

“What message?” Chibs asked.

Venus’ eyes watered up and tears spilled. Tig grabbed a tissue and lightly dabbed her cheeks.

“I was to deliver a message to you boys. To tell you that if the club does not dissolve, he will kill all of you and me,” she said, her sentence ending in a whisper.

Venus cried softly. I held her arm, as her hand was in a cast.

“What did he look like?” I asked.

“Yuppie kid,” Tig replied.

My eyes widened.

“Son of a bitch,” Chibs whispered.

He put his face in his hands and turned around, groaning and wiping his face.

“This has to be XMC,” I said to Chibs.

Tig looked from me to Chibs.

“How can you be sure?” he asked.

Chibs turned back around and crossed his arms over his chest.

“They’ve already attacked SAMDINO,” he replied.

Tig’s face fell.

“Holy shit, man. What happened?” he asked.

“Attacked the clubhouse. Three are in the hospital…and Packer’s dead.”

Tig looked down in shock.

“Fuck, man. Brother this is madness. They’re wanting to start a goddamn war! They act like they’re a cartel. Coming after families and shit.”

“Aye, but if they truly acted like a cartel, Venus would be dead. This is just a message. They could care less about family—“

“Yes, but how they hell did they know Venus and I were together?” Tig hissed, “A rat?”

Chibs shrugged.

“That’s not easy information to get a hold of, unless they’re spying outside our houses,” I said.

“They could get it from anywhere. Anyone who wants to get to us seem to be going through our connections,” Chibs said.

“They could have been driving down the street and saw us, Filip,” Venus said quietly, “We’re not what you would consider as ‘private,’” Venus said.

Chibs nodded.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, then reached down and lightly touched Venus’ leg through the sheets, “We’ll find who did this to ya, sweetheart.”

Venus smiled and nodded. Chibs looked to Tig.

“Ya stayin’?” he asked.

Tig nodded.

“‘Kay. We’ll leave Juice and the new kid. Let ya rest a little easier.”

Tig nodded and thanked him. Chibs waved me over. I said goodbye to Venus and Tig before following Chibs down the hall. He didn’t say anything to me as we passed through the doors and out into the waiting area. He briefly spoke to Juice and RJ, ordering them to be on duty tonight, and a new pair of us would take over in the morning. Besides, if RJ could make it through this successfully, he could prove himself worthy.

“You want us to go down there?” Juice asked.

Chibs shook his head.

“This is fine. Ya may check on Tig in a few hours, though,” he replied.

Juice nodded, and with that, he and RJ settled down for a long night of guard duty. Chibs led me around the corner and down the hallway just passed a vending machine before stopping me.

“I would have had ya and T.O. do this, but seein’ as you’re wanted, I’m not lettin’ ya outta my sight,” he said.

I nodded. Chibs sat down on the bench beside the vending machine and rubbed his face.

“XMC is in Charmin’,” he said.

I stepped up in front of him and crossed my arms.

“Now that their social media has gone viral, they’re probably scattered all over the goddamn state,” I said bitterly.

Chibs nodded in agreement. He sat in silence for a moment before looking up at me.

“We’ve never experienced anythin’ like this, Cal. We’ve had crooked cops and the ATF on our backs. But an organization like this? Startin’ wars? Shit!”

Chibs shook his head and looked back down.

“Tryin’ to keep the goddamn peace and fix every fuckin’ thing that ruined us in the first place,” he hissed, “And yet, we end up lookin’ like the bad guys. Doesn’t seem to matter what I do. We’re in total legitimate business, and heat’s risin’ anyway!”

He was silent for a moment before he looked up at me with a hint of hopelessness in his eyes.

“I saw her lyin’ there, ya know? I shouldn’t have thought it, but all I could think about was what if that was you?”

I sighed heavily and held my hands out.

“Come here. Stand up.”

Chibs stood up, taking my hands and towering over me. I held the edges of his cut and locked my eyes with his.

“There’s a million things other than the XMC and The VII that could kill me. Any second, one of us could drop dead. You just can’t think that way. We have to keep moving and do our best to protect one another. Can’t let the shit get to you,” I said.

Chibs nodded. He pulled my hands up, standing my nearly healed knuckles. He took a deep breath and his eyes flashed up to mine.

“Just when shit started gettin’ good again,” he said softly.

I smiled and squeezed his hands.

“I know.”

Chibs let his forehead fall on top of my head.

“They won’t win,” I said.

Chibs lifted his head. I looked up at him and smiled reassuringly. He returned the smile.

“I love you,” he said.

That sentence had been completely overused like a new toy for us to play with, trying it out to see if it works—if it still means anything after 48 hours.

It does.

“I love you, too,” I said.

I gently tugged on his goatee and he leaned down, pressing his lips to mine. A kiss would never be enough to protect him from getting killed, or losing everyone, but it was enough not doubt I would try.

***

It made Juice nearly choke on air when he and RJ saw it.

His eyes, used to seeing seas of Reaper patches, were now trained to lock onto a certain member. He had not noticed he was doing it until the last meeting before Christmas when the member was not in attendance. After that, he realized what he had been doing. The familiar movement of turning his head to look back down the table was now automatic, and he had no idea until he looked passed T.O. to the empty seat and his heart sank.  
He never, and would never tell anyone his thoughts, even though he had said to he felt to Chibs before he realized how much he truly meant it. Being treated so kindly by Callie only fueled the fire. Juice was not one to let his mind drift farther than getting his rocks off at Diosa, or if he was strapped for cash, by a Crow Eater. He could pick one off from either and never think about getting laid again. At least, not for a little while. No one ever appealed to him until that night. When he saw the blood on the rocks. When he checked on her periodically throughout the night. When she tried to teach him how to be a better shot. He felt stupid next to her as much as he felt protective over her. He liked working with her. He liked spending time with her, and his heart broke for her when he saw her abused arms. It hurt him. It made him one to make it better. He knew not where his feelings truly were until he saw it in the waiting area.  
He had just happened to look over at Chibs and Callie see his hand tightly holding hers as she rested her eyes, head on his shoulder, her smaller body curled against him. His heart broke away from its arteries and fell into his stomach, where it dissolved into nothing. He stared in shock for a long time, the shining silver of Chibs’ club rings keeping his attention. Then, he backed up his thoughts, realizing that he might be overthinking. This was just Chibs. Chibs was always nice to women. This was just him being comforting. A good friend. He was putting way too much thought into this. They were currently housemates. They had become close friends. There was nothing more to this. However, that changed when they left.  
Juice could see down the hall they left through, and when they stopped, he looked up. He saw Chibs sit down, disappearing behind a vending machine, but he could still see Callie. He could only hear the bass of Chibs’ voice, not being able to make out a word. He could hear Callie better, but again, not being able to hear exactly what she was saying. It didn’t matter, though. His throat closed when she held her hands out. He took them, standing and holding her hands between them. He let out a shallow breath when he laid his head on hers, and then his hope was gone when he saw his President kiss the Scout. Prospect. Whichever title came first.

“Damn,” he mouthed to himself.

That Scottish bastard. How dare—

Then, Juice caught himself. Anger and jealousy washed over him. That fact that Chibs seemed to be able to get any woman, including a fucking cop, pissed him off. The fact that he had not thought Chibs would go after Callie irritated him, as he thought because of the age difference, she was safe. He couldn’t believe it. The only woman he had thought about being his Old Lady, was taken out from under his nose. Not like he had done much to make sure it didn’t happen, but he had not suspected anything.  
When they finally left, Juice turned to RJ.

“You be okay by yourself for a minute?” he asked, “I’m gonna go down and have a smoke.”

RJ nodded. Juice stood up and stormed down the hall to the elevator. He couldn’t get outside fast enough. When he finally made it to the parking lot, he lit up and leaned against a light pole, exhaling in relief as he looked up at the slowly appearing stars in the sky.

“If he breaks her heart, I’ll kill him.”

***

Things settled down after that day. After Packer was killed, the enter state’s population of M/C’s went on high alert. Outlaw or not, no one wanted to by shut down. Rane and Montez decided to spread the word about the XMC, and our Indian Hills, Tacoma, and even the Tuscon charter in Arizona had agreed on organizing a rally for any motorcycle club in the country to join and show their pride—stand their ground. Once it was decided, we heard nothing about Project XMC. Our only issue was keeping tabs on The VII, but I think they were fighting their own battle with these stupid little college pricks.  
I finally had the chance to meet with Wendy again after New Years, and we sat down with her real estate agent. He really didn’t believe me I said that I’d pay double, and Wendy tried to talk me down, which is entirely backwards from how to process works. However, I would not let them talk me out of it, and once the papers were signed, I was in possession of one Teller-Morrow Automotive, which I would later sign over to Chibs. After completing that task, I called up a contractor I had researched and met him at TM to discuss a rebuild. I now owned the insurance on the place, and the once that renewed, it would pay for the damages, which would pay for part of the rebuild. I did a walk-through of the building with the contractor, and he mapped out a rough floor-plan, keeping as close as what he could see as possible. When everything was decided, work was set in motion, and demolition of the roof and interior would start tomorrow. Building costs? They actually weren’t that bad—not that I minded. I had enough to get the job done, and the boys had their jobs, and soon, their clubhouse back.  
When I returned home, I found Chibs in the kitchen, papers scattered across the table, pen in hand and glasses propped on his nose. On the counters sat bags upon bags of groceries, and a cooler was on the floor. They were for the party we were holding at Diosa for Venus. Nero had driven up from Norco, and the entire club, family and friends were coming.

“Hey,” I said.

Chibs looked up from his work and smiled.

“Hey, darlin’,” he said, sounding relieved.

I walked up to him and kissed him before gesturing to the groceries.

“I thought these were supposed to be gone already?” I asked.

Chibs looked over his shoulder.

“Nero’s on his way. Tig was gonna borrow Venus’ car, but he’s got his hands full,” he replied.

I nodded and looked down at the papers.

“What are you up to?” I asked.

He smiled.

“Fuckin’ bills,” he replied.

I laughed and walked up behind him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Sounds fun,” I said sarcastically.

Chibs snorted.

“I’m fixin’ to set all of this shit on fire,” he spat.

I smiled and reached into my bag at my side, producing my newly acquired titles.

“Well, promise me you won’t set these on fire,” I said, setting the papers in front him.

He seemed confused for a moment as he set aside a bill.

“That one is the deed to the property. I think the next one is license and insurance bullshit, and the last one is for the rebuild,” I explained.

Chibs went rigid.

“It’s done?” he asked.

I kissed his cheek.

“You guys have the garage back and you should have a new clubhouse by spring,” I said.

“Holy shit,” he breathed out.

He skimmed the papers and was just about to speak when there was a knock on the door.

“Must be Nero,” he said.

He quickly stood up, removing his glasses as he walked through to the front door. I waited to see him open the door and invite Nero in.

“Hey, brother,” Chibs said.

“Hey,” Nero said, “Sorry I’m late.”

Chibs waved him off and led him into the kitchen. Nero said hello to me and I helped them carry out the groceries to his truck.  
When all was cleared out, I waited on the arm of the couch for Chibs to return. He was on the front porch, asking Nero when we were supposed to be at Diosa before waving and returning inside, locking the door behind him. He walked to the step that led down to the sunken living room and stared at me, his stance predatory and his brown eyes almost black. I hugged my knees tighter, not really sure how to read him. This was new.  
A flash of big white teeth was all I needed to let me know I was in trouble. I had a second to react before he shot across the room, tackled me down on the couch, and pinned me down. I let out a small yelp of fear. Anyone six feet tall and up were giants to me, and Chibs was no exception.

“You…wonderful,” he began, his words broken between light kisses ascending my neck, “…little shit.”

I laughed and took his face in my hands. He wasted no time closing the space between our mouths, kissing me hungrily. I gripped the front of his shirt and held him to me, losing all sense of reality for a moment.  
The kiss ended in a smack and Chibs took my face in his hands.

“Thank-you,” he said, “Ya have no idea how much it means to me—to the club—to have our clubhouse back.”

I smiled and reached up to kiss him.

“You’re welcome,” I replied.

Chibs watched me for a moment, a warm smile appearing on his face. He helped me into a sitting position and pulled me over his lap. I fell sideways, propping my back on the arm of the couch where I was originally perched.

“I could have chipped in for some of that. Ya didn’t have to pay for all of it, love,” he said.

I shrugged.

“I wanted to. I owed you guys,” I replied.

Chibs smirked.

“Or is this your way of buyin’ your way in?” he asked.

I laughed.

“Maybe,” I said jokingly.

Chibs smiled, pecked my lips, then slid out from under me, offering a hand to stand.

“C’mon, love. Let’s go to that party and see Miss Venus. She has no idea,” he said.

I smiled and put an arm around his waist as we walked to the front door to grab our jackets and helmets.

“I can’t wait to see the look on her face,” I said.

“Aye,” he said.

He stopped suddenly and tilted his head, watching me with a look of mischief in his eyes.

“Ya wanna ride with me?” he asked, “It’s been a while.”

I smiled.

“You sure we shouldn’t take two?” I asked.

He smiled.

“I think we’ll be alright,” he said.

I smiled and shook my head. We walked out the side door into the carport. Chibs mounted the Touring Glide first, pulling it up and lifting the kickstand. I had yet to ride this one, but I knew it would be a smoother ride. The Dyna made me nervous, and I was used to riding a super bike that hit over 200 without a problem.  
I held Chibs’ shoulders and placed myself behind him.

“Ya ready, love?” he asked.

I stuffed my head into my helmet.

“Yup.”

Chibs started the bike, the sheet metal carport roaring with the iconic sound of the beastly engine. It brought me back to the days of roaming around with the guys, people doing a double-take when they saw a girl manning a Harley. It was wonderful.  
Chibs revved the engine and I held his sides. He jerked forward, causing me to slide what little space there was forward and into his bike. My arms automatically went around his waist. He claimed his hand slipped, but I knew it was on purpose. I wasn’t that stupid. Nevertheless, he got his wish.

“Bastard,” I said.

Chibs laughed and smoothly pulled forward. I had a feeling he wanted to show off tonight. Truth was, I wanted to show off a little, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shortness of the recent chapters. My outline ran out and I'm trying to work everything out. Bare with me. 
> 
> Leave me some love and thanks for reading!


	21. Chapter 21

The VII were known for partying. Loud, many people, and drinks galore. Every circle drive of the boys' mansions had cars packed in it. There were lights and fog machines, and the living rooms were turned into concert halls. The music was always loud, and us even louder. Of course, the parties at the houses were just a warm-up. Afterwards, we would all split, some of us hitting the clubs, others heading to dive bars. Back when we didn't have much, we would hit every dive bar until one of us puked in the parking lot. When we hit it big, we blew it all on alcohol and drugs. We calmed down when we got older, of course, but I thought I knew parties inside and out. I was wrong.

The Redwood Originals were the kings of parties.

It was loud and messy. Almost every female in the building was dressed in bikinis or something not as extreme, but just as revealing. Every guy, of course, was dressed in leather and/or jeans, except for Nero, who was dressed in a nice burgundy button-up and gray slacks with a gold cross around his neck and various rings on his fingers. He never strayed to far from that stereotypical O.G. look.  
I noticed quickly, though, that the Old Ladies of the club were dressed more respectfully than the Diosa girls and the Crow Eaters. I was, of course, in my club wear, but I was still dressed more modestly. The Diosa girls and the Crow Eaters never said a word to the club or their Old Ladies unless spoken to first, and I got a small rush of pride when I realized it was all down to rank. Old Ladies were higher on the totem pole, ranking just below the club. I supposed I danced on the line between, but it still made me feel conceited.

"SAMCRO!" someone screamed.

Chibs and I had met the rest of the club one at a time on the road, riding in like a parade. Tig had beat us there, driving Venus' car so he could help her. She had discovered her surprise before we got there, but the party didn't seem to start until we entered the room. Chibs didn't hesitate to keep an arm around my waist.  
As the boys moved around and hugged everyone, I broke away to greet Venus and hug her. Her face was looking much better, and she seemed to be in a happy mood. She wore a fake Hibiscus blossom in her hair, a low cut purple top, and tight black jeans. You could see some bruising on her chest and what was exposed on her arms, but all of that was hidden by her smile.

"Hi!" I said cheerfully and hugged her.

"Hello, sweetheart," she said.

I pulled back and smiled.

"How are you feeling? You look a lot better," I said.

"Oh, honey, I am. You can be sure I'm not gonna let something like that hold me back," she said.

Tig, who was sitting beside her, leaned over and kissed her.

"You look beautiful, baby," he said.

She smiled and caressed his face.

"Thank-you, my sweet Alexander."

Everything quickly got too gross for me, and I turned away to find someone else to hang out with. I moved back through the ground, saying hello to Lyla as she passed by. A woman I didn't know, and didn't recall seeing before, with tan skin, long, straight black hair, wearing a Harley Davidson cropped tank and light, low rise jeans walked straight up to me, eyeing me up and down. She was no doubt one of the Crow Eaters.

"I didn't know they were letting women into SAMCRO now," she said.

I narrowed my eyes.

"Is that a problem?" I bit at her.

She laughed.

"No! In fact," she stepped closer to me and lowered her voice, "just the opposite. I'm used to the guys, but this can work, too."

I felt my eyes widen. Oh Lord, she was hitting on me.

"It's too bad ya can't touch this one," a familiar voice spoke up.

I looked up to see Chibs swoop in like a hawk, glaring at the Crow Eater, his expression enough to scare me. His arm went around me and he held me firmly against him.

"Old Ladies are off limits," he said.

The Crow Eater's tan face went ghostly white.

"Oh my God, Chibs! I'm so sorry! I had no idea," she said.

She then mouthed a quick sorry to me before disappearing.

"That was a first," I said.

Chibs laughed.

"These girls think anyone is free. Free dick. Free pussy," he said.

I rolled my eyes.

"Unless, o' course, if ya wanted. I wouldn't mind seein' that," he said teasingly.

I growled and swatted his chest. Chibs laughed and caught my wrist.

"Not my bend, _Phil_ ," I quipped.

Chibs playfully shoved me before yanking me back, causing me to break my resolve and laugh.

"I'm guessing they're freebies, though," I said, my tone turning sour.

Chibs' expression softened and he glanced over to the Crow Eater, who was now talking to some other girls.

"Hey," he said, grabbing my attention.

I looked up and he took my face in his hands.

"You'll find that I'm pretty loyal, Callie girl," he said.

I gave him a small smile, but I must have not looked convinced. He leaned down, staring at me directly in the eye.

"You're mine," he said.

I smiled wider and put my arms around his neck.

"Possessive, are we?" I asked, grinning.

Chibs smiled.

"Aye," he said.

I fiddled with the beads around his neck as his hands went to my waist.

"So, then you wouldn't mind if I beat the shit out of the next slut who thinks you're a free dick?" I asked.

Chibs laughed.

"Not at all, darlin'," he said.

Then, Chibs effortlessly tossed me over his shoulder like a caveman and I nearly screamed, if it wasn't for the fit of giggles. He walked us over to the couch Tig and Venus were sitting on before he finally put me down.

"What the hell is this?" Tig asked.

I looked down at Tig.

"Jesus Christ. Why don't you just kiss and get it over with?" he popped off.

Chibs and I exchanged glanced. He shrugged.

"'Kay."

I wished I could have seen Tig's first reaction when Chibs grasped my face and kissed me in front of them and anyone else who was watching. I heard Venus gasp before she burst out hollering. When we broke away, Tig's eyes were bugging out of his head and his jaw looked like it had come unhinged.

"Did…did I just see that? Are you fucking with me?" he asked.

Chibs locked his arm around my waist.

"Would we do that to ya?" Chibs asked.

I smiled and placed a hand on Chibs' chest.

"We're not that mean," I said.

Tig stood up from the couch.

"Nah, this is a prank," he said.

"Tiggy, we're serious," Chibs said.

Tig looked like he wasn't sure what to do with his hands. Slap us? Hug us? Slap himself?

"My dear Alex, I can see the love in their eyes, if they're lying, then I have lost my mind," Venus said.

Tig bit his bottom lip.

"You're serious?" he asked, his tone collected.

We nodded. Tig grinned and yanked us into a hug.

"It's about goddamn time!" he said.

Chibs and I laughed and hugged Tig. Across the room, Happy called for Chibs and Tig. Chibs looked down at me, as if asking if it was okay to split.

"Go ahead. I'm gonna stay here," I said.

Chibs smiled and pecked my lips. Tig started to follow when he gripped my arm and leaned down to my ear.

"Please promise me you're using protection," he said.

It was my turn for my eyes to pop out of my head and my jaw to drop.

"Tigger!" I hissed.

Tig just laughed and kissed my forehead before going after the Prez. Venus held her hands out.

"Come here, baby. Let's talk. We haven't been able to sit down and gossip in a long time," she said.

I gladly sat down beside her and she took my right hand within hers.

"Do you really love him?" she asked.

I smiled shyly and nodded. She patted my hand, her long nails sporting a fresh coat of red.

"I could see it from a mile away. Even back when you stayed with us, I could see it," she said.

I raised an eyebrow at her.

"Really?" I asked.

"Honey, nothing gets by me," she said with a smile.

I smiled and looked away.

"You're on your way now, sweetheart," she said.

I looked back up at her, puzzled.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

She smiled and turned to the side, taking both of my hands in hers.

"Sweetheart, you have reached Old Lady status—or at least, when the relationship has had time to grow and mature. And believe me, baby, it will. You're not only an Old Lady of SAMCRO, but the President's Old Lady. First Lady of SAMCRO," she said.

I just shrugged.

"So?" I asked, not really understanding.

Venus' perfect eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"I don't understand where all of these labels come from. Like, I get the titles within the club, but all of these ranks? We're just people."

Venus' face relaxed.

"Callie, honey, this world is a little bit different. We live outside of the social boundaries. We make our own rules. You're not completely used to true biker culture, and I'm not quite used to it it yet, either, but I understand how this kingdom they've built works. Old Ladies, okay? We are an important and vital force in this world. Our men? They are warriors. Soldiers. You have it a little bit differently, as you are fighting with them. You have the Patch to live up to, your brothers to serve, and your Old Man to love and protect. Plus, you are the President's Old Lady, and that's a lot to hold up on your shoulders."

"Way to lay it on thick," I commented, "I don't really see why it's such a big deal."

Venus smiled.

"Baby, this is the Mother Charter. Okay? Everything that happens winds up back here. We are the face of the Sons of Anarchy, represented by our President. Filip holds the gavel and sits in the throne. He is the king. Any woman at his side is automatically the face of the female force, and the Queen. This club has always been M/C royalty in the great state of California. We are the leaders. The club holds the flag and leads the way. The Old Ladies? We follow them and fight with them every step of the way. When they fall, we pick them back up and we break the necks of whoever beat them down with a fierce fire no one can put out. We are their rocks, Callie. Their backbones. We stand beside them in the sun and we hold them as they break down in shadows. Now, right now, in anyone else's eyes, you're just a Prospect. To everyone in this room, you're a Scout, and you are Filip's girl. However, with time, you will hold the crown that Miss Gemma once wore. I suppose right now, I'm the main matriarch, as strange as it seems, but I know you'll be able to do it with your head held high."

I just nodded, letting everything sink in. Venus put her fingers under my chin, making me look up.

"But we do it for our boys," she finished.

I smiled and nodded.

"Yeah," I said.

Venus touched my cheek and smiled.

"Now, tell me how this came to fruition," she said.

I laughed and gladly explained the details, relieved to have the chance to share.

Chibs and Tig returned about half an hour later with several plates of food, packets of plastic cutlery and beer. Both of them already had one down them.

"Ya wanna beer, babe?" Chibs asked me as he handed me a plate, which was loaded with barbecue that a local restaurant had catered.

"No, thank-you," I replied.

"How about a Coke, then?"

I nodded. Chibs disappeared. Tig sat on the opposite side of Venus and Chibs returned, handing me the can of cola before sitting beside me.

"I hope ya like barbecue," Chibs said.

I opened the packet of cutlery and pulled a fork from it.

"I do. I'm not picky, though," I replied.

Chibs smiled.

"Ya should tell Tiggy about ya gettin' hit on earlier," he said teasingly.

I had a mouthful of potato salad when I looked up and gritted my teeth, making Chibs laugh. Tig sat forward suddenly.

"I'll cut that motherfucker into pieces!" he growled, "Who hit on you, baby girl?"

"A Crow Eater," Chibs replied for me, laughing around a cheekful of food.

Tig burst out laughing. I just rolled my eyes and stabbed at my food. I had a feeling this would be a long running joke. Chibs must have sensed my irritation, because he leaned over and laid one on my cheek.

"Don't be mad, lovely. I don't blame her," he said.

I laughed and stole a piece of brisket from his plate. Chibs scoffed. I just grinned.

"Love you," I said cheekily.

Chibs just smiled and shook his head.

As the party wore on, and Venus made a brief speech, thanking everyone, Tig took her home early, as her ribs were starting to hurt and she was getting tired. Nero had to call it quits too, as he needed to get back home to his son, but the rest of us were still going strong. Every, it seemed, except for Juice.  
I had not even thought about him until later on. Shitty, I know, but I was so preoccupied with Chibs and Venus, I really didn't have the opportunity to think about him. I quickly noticed his absence, however, when Tig and Venus went home. I had been at this party since 8:00 PM, and with it being nearly 11:00, I felt like shit for not going to talk to him. I caught up with Rat as I explored Diosa, asking if Juice had even showed. He pointed me in the direction of the bar, telling me that RJ had been scooped up by one of the Diosa girls, but Juice had been planted on the same barstool all night, only getting up once to piss. I felt like someone had taken a knife to my stomach and gutted me, when I spotted the tribal tattoos on a hanging head. I thanked Rat and walked over to Juice. He was sitting still, being quiet. Behaving, unlike most of the people here. Just sitting around and nursing a beer. It worried me.

"Hey," I said softly, touching his shoulder.

Juice nearly jumped out of his skin, but relaxed when he saw me.

"Oh, hey," he said nervously.

I sat on the barstool next to him.

"Did I break you out of a deep thought?" I asked.

Juice shrugged.

"More like a blank thought," he replied.

I smiled.

"What are you doing over here by yourself?" I asked, reaching into my pocket for my cigarettes and lighting one, "I know it's kinda cramped in here, but it's flooded with, apparently, free pussy. For the boys _and_ girls."

Juice smiled and gave me a weird look. I shrugged and flew a stream of the corner of my mouth.

"I got hit on earlier. One of the Crow Eaters," I said.

Juice burst out laughing.

"What did you do?" he asked.

I shrugged.

"Nothing. Chibs swooped in before I could say anything. Not my thing, you know?"

Juice's face fell and he nodded.

"You and Chibs, huh?" he asked.

I shuddered. With all the craziness of Christmas and Venus' attack, I hadn't had much of a chance to talk to Juice at all. He didn't have the faintest idea, even though he probably saw Chibs throw me over his shoulder earlier.

"Yeah," I replied quietly.

Juice nodded. I took a drag from my cigarette and passed it to him. Juice took it and leaned forward.

"Didn't see that one coming," he said.

I snorted.

"Yeah, me neither," I replied.

Juice cast me a sideways glance.

"It just kinda happened," I explained.

Juice passed me the cigarette.

"How so?" he asked.

I shrugged.

"I liked him for a while, but I never said anything. I wasn't going to let my feelings get in the way with the club and everything, but we were drinking one night and he told me how he felt. Everything else is history, I guess."

Juice nodded. I took a drag off of my cigarette and studied him. He kept himself hunched over, not even trying to make eye contact with me.

"Should I be worried?" I asked.

Juice straightened up and looked at me with wide eyes.

"What? No! No, Chibs is a good guy," he replied quickly.

I tilted my head to side, staring at him and wondering what the hell was up with him. He looked to see me staring and shrugged.

"Sorry, it's just been kind of a weird day," he replied.

I nodded and handed him what was left of the cigarette.

"Yeah," I replied, then decided to change the subject, "You wanna go look at bikes after church tomorrow? I don't know if we can find one like mine, but I bet we can get a hold something fast."

Juice nodded, perking up a little.

"Yeah," he agreed.

Across the room, Chibs yelled something at someone we couldn't see, a bunch of the guys erupting in laughter. Juice sighed heavily.

"Are you happy?" he asked.

I looked at him in surprise. His eyes were glued to Chibs. I looked from him to the Prez and back.

"I know it's kind of big step. With what happened to Zero and all," he said.

"Oh! Yeah, yeah. No, I know. I think it was a big step for both us, but it's been a good step," I replied.

Juice smiled and turned to snub out the cigarette.

"Yeah. It's been a long time since I've seen him cut up like this," he said.

I looked over to see Chibs messing with Rat. I smiled. Sometimes it took the aid of alcohol, but it was nice to see him relax and go nuts.  
Juice stood up from the barstool and hugged me.

"I'm happy for you, Cal," he said.

I smiled and hugged him back.

"Hey."

Juice nearly jumped out of his skin and looked like he shit himself. He spun around to face Chibs.

"Jesus Christ, boy!"

"Sorry," Juice breathed out, "You spooked me. I didn't know you were there."

Chibs smiled and looked to me.

"Come on. Let's get out of here before I get too drunk," he said.

I laughed and hopped down from the barstool.

"Poor Chibs might have to ride bitch," I teased.

Chibs tried to hold back a smile.

"In your dreams," he said.

I smiled and reached up to kiss his cheek.

"I'm going to say goodbye to the guys and meet you out there."

Chibs nodded and I left him with Juice.

* * *

Juice thought he would be okay. Since seeing what he saw at the hospital, he had been walking around in a haze, his mind on automatic and living through the motions. The first day had been hard, but he realized there was no point in moping. He was on Chibs' good side for the first time in years and he still had Callie as a friend. If that was all he could have, then he should be grateful. So, he sucked it up, but found himself not at all in the partying mood when he arrived at Diosa. He wanted to be there. He wanted to see Venus' face, and that had been the highlight of his night. Of course, this was long before the rest of the club arrived. After that, everything went to hell. He tried not to look, but every once in a while, he would see Callie on Chibs' hip and that haze returned. Nothing was fun anymore. He had wanted to drink himself silly, but he quickly lost interest on his first bottle of beer, which he had been holding since he grabbed it. He remained quiet, sticking to the bar. He had wanted to jump in with everyone and put on a fake smile—maybe forget his own woes for a little while. However, he knew the moment he saw Chibs throw Callie over his shoulder that that would prove to be futile.  
When Callie came to talk to him, he had a hard time tearing himself away from his thoughts and pretend the woman he had come to love wasn't sitting right beside him, giving him the attention he had not known that he craved all night. He couldn't stop himself from mentioning Chibs. Part of it was sheer curiosity, the other was his sort of strange way of bringing peace to himself. It was like when every other bad thing happened. You want to talk about it—need to speak. Otherwise, it will eat away at you, and Juice knew that all too well. And he was right. Speaking, at first, hurt. It burned his throat worse than any alcohol or cigarette. But when he saw the light in his sister's eyes, the burn faded. Maybe in a different life, he would have had the chance, but he knew that in this life, he would never be able to spark that light. It wasn't for him. Yet, knowing that she was truly happy made the sting lessen. If she was happy, then he was, too.

"Ya get any info on this bastard that attacked Venus?" Chibs asked.

Juice looked up at Chibs and jealousy smeared over him like thick mud. He kept telling himself to cool it, but now that Chibs was taking Callie…back to his house…it made him want to snap.

"No," he said shortly.

Really, he had been doing as much research as he could. He wanted to see the guy slaughtered as much as the rest of them, but he had come up with nothing so far. That didn't mean he wouldn't track him down, though.

"Get on it. We gotta get this guy," Chibs said.

Chibs was about to continue, but Juice let his mouth get the better of him.

"I'm working on it!" he snapped, setting the now warm beer down on the bar and standing up.

Chibs shot him a look.

"I didn't say ya weren't," he said.

Juice cursed himself for snapping, and decided to split before he blew everything to Chibs. Even so much as looking at him would make him spill the beans. He had that power of Juice.

"I'm going," Juice said.

Before he could take a step passed Chibs, the older man grabbed his arm and pulled him back. Juice could do nothing but stare up at Chibs with wide eyes, knowing he knew everything Juice had done. All of this shit he pulled, simply because he did not know any better. The way he was manipulated. The lies and blood spilt. His fragile state of mind—a state he had know idea that Chibs understood. Juice could only freeze.

"Ya okay, Juicey?" he asked, his eyes changing from hard to caring by just a mere pigment change and movement of the eyebrows.

Juice shrugged.

"Yeah. I'm just tired," he lied.

Chibs nodded.

"I'm gonna head home. I'll see you tomorrow," he continued.

Chibs nodded again and patted the boy's shoulder. Juice started for the door.

"Drive safe," Chibs said.

Juice's eyes widened and his shoulders dropped. He threw a half-assed thank-you Chibs' way before bolting out the door. The parking lot was empty. He quickly walked to his bike and mounted it before letting out a shaky breath. As soon as it was out of Chibs' mouth, he wanted to run back to him and hug him. Apologize. He immediately regretted all of the hateful shit that passed through his mind. Through every second chance Chibs had given, he still gave a shit about him. He was ashamed of himself.  
He rubbed his face, willing himself to get right. He had to push away this bitter jealousy. He would be happy for them. He would support them. He'd damn sure be there if something were to happen. He would do that for his brother and sister. He could do that.

* * *

"I've come to a conclusion, Callie girl," Chibs said as he shrugged off his cut in the foyer.

I turned on the lamp next to the couch, threw my jacket onto the coffee table and lazily flopped down on the couch, landing on my back.

"What's that, sweetheart?" I asked, rubbing my burning eyes.

I was exhausted.

"That either you are scared of that big, loud Harley—"

"Chibs, I used to own one. I'm not scared of it," I snapped grumpily.

"Aha!" he shouted victoriously.

The man nearly skipped over to the couch and prowled over me. I opened my eyes to see him smirking down on me.

"So ya do like ridin' with me," he said.

I smiled.

"What made you think I didn't?" I asked.

He leaned down closer to me.

"'Cause ya had your arms wound 'round me so tight, it could have either been that ya were scared, or ya liked it!"

I laughed.

"You love that shit, dontcha?" I asked, grinning.

"Oh, I think it's bloody fuckin' romantic," he said.

I laughed and reached up to put my arms around his neck. He moved up onto the couch, straddling my legs.

"Oh, you do?" I asked.

He gave me a genuine smile.

"I do," he said softly.

I smiled. The way a man's mind works is often strange to me, but in a way I understood. Especially when it came to the mind of a biker, and after my talk with Venus, I understood a lot better. The only people more important than the brothers are the Old Ladies at their sides, and to show them off, ride with them, knowing the arms locked around your waist belong to someone who loves you more than anything else, meant everything. Zero had always loved it. It seemed to be a guy thing, but I enjoyed it too. This M/C worked more traditionally, with stricter rules than how The VII functioned, but a few of the streams crossed, including riding. I was not one to submit, let the guy take all the glory and letting his ego swell, but when it came to this, I let it go. I actually kind of liked it, knowing how Chibs felt—knowing I was the reason.

"Maybe some time we can go ahead? Just you and me?"

Chibs smiled.

"I plan on it," he replied.

He leaned down and kissed me softly. He then scooped me up and flipped us over so I could lay on top of him. He grabbed the remote control out from under my jacket on the coffee table and turned the TV on. I settled against his side and closed my eyes. His arm went around my waist, his thumb absently rubbing.

"Did Juicey seem a little off to you?" he asked.

I opened my eyes and nodded.

"Yeah," I replied, picking at one of the buttons on his shirt, "He said he had a weird day. You think he's okay?"

Chibs sighed.

"Dunno. He about bit my head off when I tried to talk to him," he replied.

I stared at him in surprise.

"Shit! I wonder why?"

Chibs shrugged.

"He apologized. It's probably like ya said. He's havin' a weird day," he replied, "We'll see if he straightens up."

I nodded in agreement.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow. I told him we could go look at bikes after church."

Chibs looked down at me.

"I'll go with ya," he said.

I perked up.

"Really?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Besides, we have a little pit stop we gotta make. Just me and you," he said.

I watched him curiously.

"What kind of pit stop?" I asked.

He smiled.

"You'll see, love."


	22. The Planned and the Unplanned

“You can’t possibly be tired. What are ya yawnin’ for?”

I cut my eyes at Chibs as I leaned on his bike, shaking from the winter morning air.

“It’s 6:00 in the morning! We went to be at 3:00!”

“Aye, but you fell asleep at 1:00,” he said.

I growled. I was still tired. When he said pit stop, I thought he meant make a run somewhere…during a more decent hour. Definitely not parked out on the backside of St. Thomas Hospital at the break of dawn.

“I had to come why?” I asked.

Chibs backed up next to me and sat down on the bike.

“Because you’re a Prospect and ya still have to do whatever I tell ya. Besides, ya need to learn this in case I ever need ya to do it for me,” he replied.

I looked from him to the back loading dock of the hospital.

“And what are we doing?” I asked.

“Restockin’ on supplies,” he said, then looked down at me and smiled, “I’m the only one that can take care of ya muppets.”

He playfully nudged me and I laughed and nudged him back.

“So you found a crooked doctor?” I asked.

He smiled.

“Everyone is crooked for the right price. These idiots buy black market shit out here all the time. But, if ya ever need medical care, this is the best place to go,” he explained.

I nodded. I understood that. When you’re in an outlaw M/C, it’s imperative to have friends in high places. Even I still had ties to a few beneficial connections back in SoCal.

“Do you think you would have ever wanted to go into the medical field?” I asked.

Chibs looked down at me curiously.

“Like, if you had never been tied with the M/C? Or the IRA?” I asked, cringing when I added that last part.

It usually wasn’t a good idea to bring up the Irish around Chibs, but I was careful with my words.

“Meh. I dunno. I mean, I like helpin’ people. Blood and guts don’t really bother me, ya know?”

I nodded.

“Not really smart enough to survive that world,” he finished.

I smiled.

“I think you could have. You keep us alive. I mean, you did perform surgery in the back of a van with little supplies and no X-rays. That’s genius shit,” I said.

Chibs laughed.

“That was just survival shit. My medical knowledge only goes so far, ya know? Even stitches were beyond me for a while. I learned what I know from Jackie Boy’s wife. That girl was a genius. You want to see me look like an idiot? Throw me in with her to pull a slug out of an arm.”

I smiled and laid my head on his shoulder.

“I think you did a pretty good job with me,” I said, “Next time I need a doctor, I know where to go.”

Chibs chuckled.

“Just down the hall,” he replied.

I felt my eyes widen when I realized what we just said. Chibs snorted.

“Don’t say it,” he said.

I bit my bottom lip, trying not to laugh.

“Gutter mind,” he groaned and leaned down to peck my lips.

The door on the loading dock squeaked open. Chibs and I stood to see a dark-skinned man in a lab coat walk out with a black bag. Chibs leaned over to me.

“Stand by. Keep a sharp eye out,” he said quietly.

I nodded. Chibs walked towards the dock. I followed behind before stopping a yard or so away from our bikes. I was prepared to grab my gun as soon as there was a hint of things going south.  
Chibs walked up to the doctor and produced a white envelope from the inside of his cut. The doctor checked the inside before passing the bag off. He then glanced at me.

“Never had to bring back-up before. You guys back in the red again?” he asked.

Chibs looked at me, then smiled at the doctor.

“No,” he replied lightly.

The doctor looked warily at Chibs before clearing his throat.

“Okay. Well, if you need anything else,” he said.

Chibs nodded and thanked him before they shook hands and parted, the meet ending painlessly. I waited for him to meet me before walking back to the bikes with him.

“That’s it?” I asked.

We stopped in front of the bikes and Chibs put the bag inside of the bike.

“Aye. Here,” he replied.

He reached into his pocket and handed me a wad of cash, bound by a rubber band.

“Two grand. For the clubhouse,” he said.

I looked up at him in surprise.

“What? Chibs, I told you—“

“Callie, just take it. I told you I’d help pay. Just take it before I find anything way to put it in your pockets,” he said sternly.

I stared at the money pensively before slowly taking it. He wasn’t getting away with this.

“Finding ways to get into my pants,” I murmured.

Chibs grabbed his helmet.

“Callie,” he scolded, “Let’s head to Redwoody. Got some shit to take care of.”

I nodded and slipped the cash into my pocket, making sure to zip it up.

“Hey.”

I looked up at him. He cupped my neck and kissed me softly.

“I love you,” he said.

I smiled.

“I love you, too.”

Chibs touched my cheek before buckling his helmet. I returned to my bike and saddled up before following him to Redwoody.

***

“You’re late!” Tig screamed at Chibs and I playfully.

I followed behind Chibs as Tig stopped to hug me.

“Morning, darlin’,” he said.

“Morning, Tiggy.”

Tig kissed my forehead and tossed an arm around my shoulders as well fell in step with Chibs.

“Had to go pick up an order. Callie, look!” Chibs said excitedly.

He pulled a device from the bag we had picked up.

“A cautery pen!” he said.

“Jesus Christ, Chibby! Do you even know how to use one of those?” Tig asked.

Chibs put the pen back into the bag.

“I can figure it out,” he retorted.

Tig rolled his eyes.

“There’s always the internet,” I said.

“Exactly,” he agreed.

Tig just shook his head.

We walked into chapel and took our seats around the table. I sat down on the end beside T.O. When Chibs sat, he slammed the gavel down and began the meeting.

“Okay. Let’s get started. Firstly, tomorrow’s pay day, which reminds me that Juicey wanted to run for Secretary. Was anyone else interested in running against him?”

“I would but I’m on probation,” T.O. spoke up.

Montez raised his hand.

“I would like to run,” he said.

Chibs nodded.

“Actually, Chibs, I think I may back out on that,” Juice said, “I mean, I would still like to, but now that I’m scouting and doing tech work, maybe it would be a better for someone else. It’s a lot of book work, man.”

“You’re right about that. Shit,” Tig said.

Chibs nodded.

“I know. Alright then, Montez? You wanna run for Secretary?” he asked.

Montez nodded.

“Did ya pass 8th grade math?” Tig asked.

“Yes! I made straight A’s in all of my classes. I like to think I’m a good accountant,” he replied.

Chibs nodded.

“Let’s vote it,” he said.

The guys voted Montez in as the new Secretary before moving on.

“Now, at the party last night, Quinn came up with this fuckin’ beautiful idea,” Chibs began.

Tig held his hand up.

“Wait, wait, wait! Before we talk about that, can I say something?” he asked.

Chibs nodded.

“‘Kay,” Tig said, then turned to us, “I just want to thank all of you for coming and helping us get that party together. I means a lot to Venus. It means a lot to me. And I also want to thank all of you for being so accepting of her. Of us. Our relationship.”

“You’re welcome, brother,” Happy said.

The rest of us agreed. Chibs clapped a hand on Tig’s arm. I smiled, developing a deeper love for my brothers. Where I came from, relationships like Tig’s were not necessarily taboo. However, in such a masculine culture like the M/C’s, it was normal for anything other than heterosexuality to be frowned upon. However, the Redwood Originals, the Grim Bastards, and even the Mayans were accepting, as I had seen members of each at Venus’ party. It really was a beautiful thing, and I was happy for Tig and Venus.

“Okay, Quinn, you can go on. I’m sorry,” Tig apologized.

“Nah, brother. It’s cool,” Rane said, “Like our Prez was saying, I had this idea after hearing about that shit with Facebook and everything. I thought it might be a good idea to organize a bike rally. Show the public that we’re not what this hate group says we are. We can make it as family-friendly as possible. Get some kids’ shit out there. But, I also thought about getting a couple of local charity groups involved. Show the public that we do love. We have that capability.”

“I like it!” Tig said.

Chibs looked to the rest of us.

“What do ya guys think?” he asked.

We showed our enthusiasm by slamming our hands on the table. Chibs smiled.

“It’s a total publicity stunt, but if it’s big enough, we can change the public’s mind. Not like we care, but I personally don’t want to get shut down,” Rane continued.

“We don’t either, brother,” Chibs agreed.

“This could attract the news crews. We have the potential for a little bit of redemption,” Happy said.

“That’s what I was hoping for,” Rane said.

“Yeah, but it could also attract the fucking XMC. What if they come out and protest?” Juice asked.

“Then let ‘em,” Rane said, “They have every right to protest, so long as they practice it peacefully. Besides, I was kinda hoping for that, too. If they show up, chances are the prick who beat Venus will show, and Tig can get his redemption. Behind closed doors, that is.”

“Oh, hell yeah, brother,” Tig said.

“We’ll invite any M/C in the country. Anyone who wants to come out can. We raise money for charity, show the world some love. Show our pride,” Rane finished.

I looked down at the table. Any M/C?

“Yeah, but that still poses a problem,” I spoke up.

The guys looked to me.

“I’m still wanted by The VII. This will more than likely attract them, too.”

“Ah, shit, darlin’,” Rane said, “I forgot about that.”

“That’s a very big chance, though, Cal,” Tig said.

“It is risky, though,” I replied.

“Aye,” Chibs said, “One I’m not willin’ to take. Ya think they’d come all the way up here. Pull shit at a public rally?”

I shrugged.

“They’ve never shown up to a rally before. We never did anything like that,” I replied.

Chibs scratched at the tabletop in thought.

“Where’s RJ?” he asked, looking towards Juice.

“Helping Lyla set up a set,” he replied.

“I’ll get him,” Tig said, and stood up.

He walked over to the door, opened it, and stuck his head out.

“RJ! Get your ass in here!” he shouted.

RJ appeared promptly, looking scared shitless. Tig held the door open and stood aside to let him in. Tig then shut the door and returned to his seat. Chibs leaned back and looked up at him.

“If there was a big, public event around here that possibly promised our presence, do ya think The VII would show up in hopes of findin’ Callie? Would they ride all this way, pissed off ‘cause their Prospects are ‘dead?’” Chibs asked, using air quotations.

RJ shook his head.

“I highly doubt it,” he replied.

Chibs raised an eyebrow at him.

“Really?” he asked.

“Yeah, man. They never showed their faces at shit like that. Shane was all about privacy,” he replied.

“I remember that,” I popped off.

Rat looked at me and smiled.

“Besides, they’ve had the Feds on their asses since the XMC killed AJ,” RJ finished, “They can’t leave.”

“Then we should be in the clear?” Tig asked.

RJ nodded.

“We’ll take our precautions anyway. Thank-you, son. You can go,” Chibs dismissed.

RJ nodded and left. Chibs sat forward.

“Let’s see if we can get this in motion. Get any charity we can behind it. I have a place in mind that I want the club to donate to,” Chibs said.

“Where?” Tig asked.

“St. Emilio’s. It’s the hospital that takes care of Nero’s son,” he replied.

“Hell yeah, brother,” Tig said.

“‘Kay. Quinn, set it up. Tiggy, you and Rat head down to TM and check up on the demo. How are we with TM?”

“Busy,” Rat replied.

“‘Kay. All of ya get out there and work. Juicey, Callie, you’re with me,” he said, “We good?”

We nodded. Chibs slammed the gavel down and we stood from the table. Juice caught up with me as we walked down the hall.

“I thought we were going to look at bikes?” he asked me.

“We are,” I replied, “Chibs wanted to go.”

Juice looked over his shoulder to Chibs, who was a few people behind us.

“Oh,” was all he said.

I looked at him in concern.

“Is that okay with you?” I asked.

Juice snapped his head back to me.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” he said.

I just nodded. Something was obviously bothering him, I was determined now to find out what it was. I would just have to get him away from Chibs. I felt that that might make it easier.

We met Chibs outside. Chibs walked around my bike, searching it for something.

“Juicey, did you want one exactly like this one?” he asked.

Juice cleared his throat.

“Um, yeah, sure,” he replied, “It is a cool bike.”

Chibs walked around the backside of the bike.

“Callie, what is this thing?” Chibs asked, a little frustrated.

I had had all of the markings removed when I got it so I couldn’t be identified.

“It’s a Suzuki, right?” Juice asked.

“Yeah. Hayabusa. Turbo-charged,” I replied.

“Jesus Christ,” Chibs groaned, “Okay, let’s head down to Stockton. Talk to our motorcycle guy.”

Juice and I nodded and got on our bikes.

***

Chibs led us to a motorcycle dealer just inside of Stockton. The place was like a biker’s wet dream. Harleys filled one side of the lot, and a variety of other brands filled the other. Some were new. Most were pre-owned. All were gorgeous, and a sparkling purple Harley Sportster caught my eye as we pulled in.  
We pulled up to the front of the building and pulled our helmets off. Chibs led us inside, and we were greeted by the smell of tires and coffee. The building was older, the inside panelled with wood that looked like it came out of the 70s and the floor was covered in white tile that was well worn. The computer on the front desk was made of yellow plastic and covered in half-ripped stickers.  
A guy walked out from a back room, wearing a pale blue button up with the dealership’s logo monogrammed on his breast pocket and navy blue trousers.

“Chibs!” he said loudly.

Chibs smiled and eagerly walked up to the guy to shake his hand.

“Goddamn, man! It’s been a long time!” the man said.

Chibs laughed and they bro-hugged.

“Nice to see ya, Jerry,” Chibs said cheerfully, roughly patting the Jerry guy’s back.

Jerry moved back to read Chibs’ cut, but looked confused.

“What happened to the old blue and white flashes?” he asked.

Chibs shrugged.

“We still wear them. Had to travel in stealth mode today,” he explained.

Jerry nodded.

“I see. I see. Good to see you’ve taken the throne. How’s business?” he asked.

Chibs shrugged, following Jerry up to the desk. Juice and I exchanged glances.

“I didn’t know we had a motorcycle guy,” he whispered.

I smiled.

“Sounds like he’s Chibs’ personal dealer,” I replied quietly.

Juice smiled and nodded.

“I heard about what happened to Jax, man. I’m so sorry,” Jerry said.

Chibs nodded.

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

Jerry cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject.

“Well, what can I do for you today, Prez? I see you brought some of your crew with you,” he said.

Chibs looked to us and we walked up to the counter.

“Aye. These are my Scouts. New position in the club. This is Juice,” he introduced, gripping Juice by the neck like a mother lion taking a cub in her jaws—strong and protect, but still absolutely gentle.

Juice greeted Jerry and shook his hand.

“And this is Callie,” Chibs introduced, putting an arm around me as I appeared on his left, opposite of Juice.

Jerry smiled and shook my hand.

“Nice to meet you, darlin’,” he said, then turned back to Chibs, “If I’m not mistaken, she’s the first woman to be in the club. Unless Jax’s momma was patched.”

“Nah, Mother never patched,” Chibs replied, “Callie’s special.”

Neither the man behind the counter, nor Juice could see the loving squeeze Chibs gave me.

“Well, you guys in the market for some parts?” Jerry asked.

“No, we’re actually on a bike hunt. Cal has this super fast sports bike and we’d like to get one for Juicey.”

Jerry nodded and shook the mouse on the computer to wake it up.

“Sure thing, man. What kind of bike are we looking for? We have two BMW’s you may be interested in,” he said.

“Ya carry Suzuki?” Chibs asked.

Jerry nodded.

“We sure do? What model?” he asked.

“Hayabusa,” I replied.

Jerry’s eyes widened.

“I do not have one of those. Those are the super bikes. We usually never carry those, but I can definitely order one. Get you that discount, Chibs,” he replied.

Chibs nodded.

“How soon can ya get it in?” he asked.

“By next week. Of course, if you want, I can order it with customizations, but that might take and extra week,” Jerry explained.

“Still be just in time if Quinn gets that rally set up,” Juice said to Chibs.

Chibs nodded.

“Ya want some customizations? I know you’ll need to have it turbo-charged,” he replied.

“And painted,” I added.

Jerry reached down and picked up a yellow notepad and a pen.

“Here, man,” he said, handing the items to Juice, “Write down your specs and I’ll get it ordered.”

Juice’s eyes widened.

“Really?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Jerry replied.

Juice eagerly took the pen and began to write down his customizations.

“What kind of rally?” Jerry asked.

Chibs sighed and leaned against the countertop.

“Motorcycle rally. We’re tryin’ to get some money together for charity. Get some stuff out there for the kids. It’s all up in the air right now, but we’re workin’ it out.”

Jerry’s eyes lit up.

“Hell yeah, man. Hey! Let me know when it is and I’ll be out there. Me and my old lady miss riding, man,” he said.

Juice finished what he was writing and handed the pad and pen back to Jerry.

“I’ll let ya know,” Chibs said.

We thanked Jerry for his help and Juice and I walked outside. Juice gestured to my bike.

“How fast does that thing go?” he asked.

I put my hands in my jacket pockets, feeling the wad of cash Chibs had handed me this morning and making a mental note to not lose it.

“Before I put some of the customizations on it, it only hit about 180. After I worked on it, it gets about 280,” I replied.

Juice stared at me in shock.

“Jesus Christ, Callie!” he exclaimed.

I smiled.

“You want to take mine? Practice?” I asked.

Juice shook his head, looking at my bike fearfully.

“Nah, I’ll wreck it. I’ll wait to kill myself on mine,” he said.

I laughed. Chibs walked outside, his phone stuck to his ear.

“No, we’re in Stockton right now,” he said to whoever he was talking to.

Juice and I looked back at Chibs.

“‘Kay. We’ll there in a minute,” he said, then shut his phone, “That was Tig. He wants us to get to TM. Check out the demo, and we have some work we need to get done. Quinn and Montez are scouting locations for the rally. Getting some shit locked down, so we need to get goin’.”

Juice and I nodded.

As we mounted our bikes and started to leave, a guy pulled in on a beautiful candy apple red Touring Glide, much like Chibs’, except this man had it decked out with all the luxury trimmings for long rides. Most likely for his wife. Possibly a retired couple.

“Holy shit,” I said breathlessly as I watched him pull in.

Chibs chuckled and reached over to clap a gloved hand on my shoulder.

“Wipe the drool from your chin, love,” he said.

I shot him a dangerous look. Chibs laughed and started his bike. I looked back to see the Harley parked a little ways from us, a plump, elderly man getting off and waddling towards the front door.

“Nice bike, man,” I said loudly over the roar of Chibs’ bike.

“Thank ya!” the man said, his voice pitched high and animated.

I put on my helmet and smiled to myself. I wanted one…

“Let’s go, Callie girl,” Chibs said.

I turned my bike on and Chibs revved forward first, then Juice, and then my tailing behind. I got one last look at the purple Sportster as we pulled out. No thanks to Chibs, I got a refresh on what power felt like, and I was hungry for it now.

At TM, I met up with Tig who was talking to the contractor. Work was well under way. The old roof was gone, and workers were currently carrying out blackened lumber from the inside. The contractor walked off before I could reach him, but I was able to catch Tig.

“Hey.”

Tig turned around, cigarette dangling from his lips. He pulled it out and tossed an arm over my shoulders.

“Hey, baby girl,” he replied.

“How’s the demo?”

Tig nodded.

“Going pretty fast. The roof is gone. They said they would be finished gutting it by the end of the week, then they’ll have what they can salvage cleaned and restored. Reconstruction will probably start about a week in to February,” he said.

I nodded. Good. They were getting shit done. Tig stopped walking and turned to face me.

“Thank you for giving us our clubhouse back. You have no idea how much we appreciate this, Cal,” he said.

I smiled.

“You’re welcome,” I replied.

Tig smiled warmly and pulled me into a tight hug. I put my arms around him and he held me for a long time. I didn’t fully understand the importance of the clubhouse, as The VII never had one. We were always bouncing from house to house. Mostly at Shane’s. Occasionally Z and I would go get drunk at L’s house. Meetings were at anyone’s place. We were not traditional, so when it came to the Sons, I didn’t quite understand how deeply invested these guys were in certain things emotionally. However, I also didn’t know what most likely went down in the building. To me, it was an old storage warehouse in ruin, but I could see the hope. Especially in Tig’s eyes. He believed it would rise from the ashes, and I knew it would. It better, for how much I was paying for it.  
Tig kissed my forehead and backed up.

“You mind helping me out with a little job?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“Not at all. What is it?” I asked.

Tig put an arm around my shoulders and turned me to face a fenced in playground on the other side of the loading dock just in front of the clubhouse.

“You, T.O. and I are gonna get in there and take that apart, get it loaded, and take it to Wendy’s. Nero is going to pick up the trailer and take it to Norco so the boys can have their playground back,” he explained.

I nodded.

“Sure thing,” I replied.

“‘Kay. Go into the garage and find T.O. I have to run and get the trailer,” he said.

I nodded and obeyed.

After finding T.O., who already had the tools, I helped him drag an extension cord from the garage so we could use the impact wrench. Then, I helped him take the swings and vinyl roof down before Tig arrived with the trailer. Once he arrived, we were able to get into the full swing of disassembly, which proved to be a royal pain in the ass the further we got into it.  
It was late afternoon before we began making any progress. Tig had a hard time keeping his temper in check, and after trying to keep him from going through with his “brilliant chainsaw idea,” we finally disassembled the beam that almost decapitated T.O.

“How the hell are you a mechanic when you can’t even take a fucking playset apart?” T.O. playfully snapped at Tig.

“Do you fucking think I built the playgrounds for my girls? I had the fucking delivery people do it. Fuck that shit!” Tig bit back.

I was sitting on top of the slide, staying out of the way and shaking my head. A small car pulled into the compound. Many cars had come and gone today, TM having, according to Tig, it’s busiest day in a long time. Everyone wanted their tires changed, antifreeze added, oil changed, and overall winterizing their vehicles. This car, however, did not pull up to the garage, but parked across from our bikes. I watched as a small, young girl got out and looked around. I squinted, trying to figure out why she looked familiar when I realized it was Brooke. She walked across the lot before she spotted us and walked over.  
Tig looked up to see her approaching.

“Hey, darlin’,” he said.

“Hi,” she said shyly, “You guys taking the swings down?”

“Yeah, Wendy wants it down in Norco. What’s going on?” Tig asked.

She wrung her hands around the strap of her purse, looking absolutely petrified. I hopped down from the swing and walked to the gate.

“Is Rat here?” she asked.

“He’s on an impound run,” I replied.

Brooke exhaled, looking surprisingly relieved.

“‘Kay…um…”

She looked around nervously before walking up to me.

“Can I talk to you?” she whispered.

I nodded and looked back to the guys.

“You got it?” I asked.

“Yeah,” T.O. replied with a grunt as he and Tig fought with a bolt.

I walked out the gate and gestured for her to follow me. We walked down to the office, finding Chucky inside filling out some paperwork. When we entered, he looked up and smiled.

“Hello, Callie. Brooke,” he said cheerfully.

“Hey, would you mind going and helping Tig and T.O.? See if they need anything. They’re having a hell of a time with that thing,” I said.

Chucky nodded and put his pen and clipboard down.

“Sure thing,” he said, then got up and left the office.

I shut the door leading outside and the other that led out into the garage, muffling the sound of impact wrenches, grinding metal, and the echo of Led Zeppelin over the radio.

“What’s up?” I asked.

Brooke sat down on the old plaid couch slowly, her eyes wide with fear.

“I would have gone to Wendy with this, but she’s at work and Lyla’s busy. I wouldn’t have bothered you—“

“Hey, it’s fine,” I said and sat in the office chair.

Brooke just nodded. It didn’t occur to me that she might be scared of me. I didn’t have the friendliest presence. Not that I couldn’t be nice. I wasn’t a bitch, but Brooke didn’t know that.

“What’s up?” I asked.

She let out a shaky breathe.

“This is going to sound weird and crazy,” she began, then looked up at me with wide eyes, “Please promise me you won’t tell Rat.”

“I won’t. What’s going on? Are you in trouble?” I asked, leaning forward and propping my elbows on my thighs.

She shrugged.

“Maybe,” she said.

I narrowed my eyes. She took a deep breath to calm herself.

“I think I might be pregnant,” she said quietly.

I felt my head drop a little and my eyes widen. Yeah, I would consider that trouble.

“Holy shit! I mean—“

I quickly got a grip, not wanting to scare the poor girl than she probably already was.

“How-how do you know?” I asked.

“My period’s late. Or at least, I think it is. I’ve never been good at keeping up with it, but I’m pretty sure it’s late,” she replied.

I bit my lip.

“Have you taken a test?” I asked.

She shook her head.

“No,” she whispered.

“I’m assuming this wasn’t planned,” I said.

She shook her head.

“I mean, I’m on birth control, but my doc switched my meds. I’m bipolar. I’m starting to think they may be affecting the birth control.”

I nodded.

“Okay. You want to go pick up a test? I’ll go with you,” I offered.

She looked slightly relieved.

“Would you?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Sure. Let me tell Chibs and then we can split,” I said.

She looked frightened.

“I won’t tell him why,” I reassured her.

“Oh, okay. I’ll pull the car up,” she said.

I nodded and we parted. I walked into the garage to be greeted by a barrage of noise. Chibs was standing in front of a red Buick, pulling a dipstick out to check the oil.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I replied, taking his arm and kissing his cheek.

“How’s the playground comin’?” he asked.

“Tig and T.O. pretty much have it. Look, um…Brooke and I are going to run an errand. You mind if I go with her? I’ll be back in about an hour,” I said.

His eyebrows knitted together.

“An errand?” he asked.

I nodded.

“A female related errand,” I said lowly.

Chibs’ eyes widened.

“Go ahead, love,” he said.

I laughed.

“You need anything while we’re gone?” I asked.

He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Do I look female to ya?” he asked sarcastically.

I wanted to punch him.

“You know what I mean!” I growled.

Chibs grinned.

“No, sweetheart,” he replied.

“‘Kay. I’ll be back later.”

Chibs leaned down and kissed me.

“Be careful. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

With that, I rejoined Brooke, called to Tig tell him I’d be back later, then Brooke and I left TM for the store. As we drove through Charming, we saw the TM truck pulling an old van coming from the opposite direction.

“I timed that just right,” she said.

I smiled. Rat would shit a brick if he knew.

After stopping at a store, picking up two tests, we drove to Rat’s apartment that the two currently shared. God, I hoped this girl wasn’t pregnant. She looked no older than 17, even though I knew she was older. Probably not by much, though. Rat, as sweet as he was, was not mature enough for a kid, and poor Brooke definitely wasn’t.  
Brooke opened a box and looked at the stick with uncertainty.

“Here goes nothing, I guess,” she said.

I gave her a reassuring smile as she disappeared into the bathroom.

“Lord, please let that thing be negative,” I whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you guys think!


	23. Mine

“Have you ever had to use one of these before?” Brooke asked.

We were seated around the small kitchen table in Rat’s apartment, drinking Coke and watching the timer on the stove. Brooke was reading the instructions to the test as we waited. I sipped my Coke and nodded. God, that day was like hell had opened up.

“I have,” I replied.

Brooke’s head snapped up to look at me.

“Really?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Back when I was younger. All it takes in one stupid, drunken night at a party,” I replied.

Brooke frowned.

“What happened?” she asked.

I took another drink before replying.

“I had just moved in with my late-fiancé. We went out to a party and got totally smashed. Came home and hit the bedroom. I barely remembered anything after that, and I was freaked out because I couldn’t remember if we had used protection or not. So, about a week or so later, I took a test. Thankfully, it came out negative. Zero thought we probably attempted and then just passed out,” I laughed.

Brooke smiled at that. I remembered both of us sitting in the bathroom, waiting for the timer to go off. Zero held my hands as we waited, then said the most heartfelt thing I had ever heard come out of his mouth. He had said some stuff about us being the best parents in the world. He wanted to keep it if it was positive. Now, any guy could spew that shit and then bail, but Zero had always been different. Initially, when I told him I was taking a test, he was pissed, but he got over it. There were bigger issues at hand. I got lucky with a strong negative, a prompt period the next day and a loving, at the time, boyfriend.  
The timer went off and Brooke jumped.

“Maybe I’ll get lucky,” she said.

She stood up with the instructions and walked over to the counter where the test was waiting. I waited quietly as she squinted at the test, then read the instructions.

“Well,” she said, “I can’t see.”

I stood up and walked over to her side.

“Let me see,” I said.

Brooke turned and handed me the test, unsoiled side first. I looked at the little window and found that I too had to squint.

“Let’s go to the bathroom. There’s better lighting in there,” she said.

I nodded and followed her back to the bathroom. She turned on the light above the sink and I held the test up.

“See anything?” she asked.

I held it down so we could both see. It acted like it wanted to show both symbols.

“What’s negative?” I asked.

“Horizontal blue line. Positive is a pink cross,” she replied.

I tilted the test from side to side, but nothing was legible.

“I hate to say it, but I think you may have to wait to try another day. Either that, or this one is broken,” I replied.

Brooke cringed.

“Okay. Good thing we bought two,” she said.

I nodded.

“Either that, or you could go to the doctor,” I suggested.

“Oh, no, no, no! I’ll just wait,” she said.

A thought crossed my mind as she took the test and put it back into its box. If she wasn’t knocked up, wouldn’t the negative had been clear? Maybe not.

“Hide that good,” I said.

Brooke nodded.

“Oh yeah! Definitely. I’ll take the trash out before I take you back to TM,” she said.

“‘Kay. You can hide the other in your car,” I said.

“Good idea.”

Brooke moved passed me and we walked back into the kitchen.

“God, Callie, what if it is positive next time?” she asked.

I leaned against the wall of the entryway to the kitchen as she grabbed the trashcan out from under the sink.

“Then, you probably need to see your doctor about your meds. Then you need to sit Rat down and discuss what you guys are going to do,” I replied.

She stuffed the box deep within the bag and tied it up.

“I guess there’s always…termination,” she said.

I shrugged.

“Whatever you want to do, but you must discuss it with Rat first,” I said.

She nodded.

“Okay. I’m going to take this down. Could you take this down to my car?” she asked, handing the other box to me.

“Sure,” I replied.

I grabbed her keys from the table and went down to the parking lot while she locked up. I hid the box under her seat before sitting myself in the passenger seat.  
The ride back to TM was quiet. We spoke only a little before pulling in. It was dark now, and the last car they had finished was leaving. The tow truck was back in the lot, hooked up to the trailer, which now had all of the pieces of the boys’ play set loaded and strapped down, ready to be moved. Inside of the garage, I could see Chibs and Juice, and Rat was standing outside of the office having a smoke with Tig.

“Shit!” Brooke exclaimed.

She parked and spun around to me.

“What am I going to tell Rat? This isn’t something normal,” she said.

“I’ll tell him you came by while he was on a run, and to kill time, I offered to go grab a coffee with you,” I replied.

“But he’s been back since we left,” she said.

I shrugged.

“We’re girls. We lost track of time,” I said.

Brooke nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” she said, then turned to me, “Thank-you.”

I smiled and she hugged me.

“You’re welcome,” I replied.

All of my siblings were older than me, not completely blood related, male, and I barely knew them. I never had a sister, and for years, not even one female figure in my life (which is probably why I got along with my brothers in the club so well). However, in that moment, I felt a little protective over Brooke. Like a big-little sister thing going on. I realized that just as much as the boys were my family, so were the girls. Whether they were still married into the club or not. I hoped that whatever the outcome of her current situation, Rat would have her back. If not, I would, and I would be the shit out of Rat if he bailed.

“I’ll see you later,” I said.

“Bye, Callie,” she said as I got out.

I shut the door behind me and walked around the back and up to the garage. Rat was approaching me, a worried look on his face.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

I waved him off.

“She came up here to see you and you weren’t here, so I offered to kill time with her. We just went out of coffee,” I lied.

Rat nodded.

“Oh, okay. Cool,” he replied, then patted my shoulder before going to speak with Brooke.

Juice was closing the doors to the garage and Tig walked up to me.

“I’m going to head on home,” he announced, “Was everything okay?”

I looked back at the car to see Rat kissing Brooke goodbye.

“Yeah. Just girl shit,” I replied.

Tig smiled, then cupped my cheek and kissed my forehead.

“Wonderful,” he said sarcastically, “I’ll see you later, baby girl. Tell Chibby to behave.”

I laughed as he walked off and turned to face him.

“Can do,” I replied.

“Love you, sweetheart,” he called over his shoulder.

“Love you, too,” I replied.

Tig mounted his bike and started it before revving the engine and pulling out. Rat walked by me and said goodbye before following behind Tig. I noticed T.O.’s orange and black bike was gone, and Montez and Rane’s bikes were also missing. The only three left were mine, Chibs’, and Juice’s bike—and of course, Chucky’s little blue Vespa.

“Hey, Callie?”

I turned around to see Chucky standing nervously in the doorway of the office.

“I think you might want to come see this,” he said.

I walked up to the office and walked in. Chucky waved me over to the window that opened out to the garage and pointed.

“I’m not sure what happened. One moment, they were fine, and the next they were yelling. They’ve been fine all day,” he said.

I looked between the blinds to see Chibs giving Juice this deadly look and Juice backing up.

“Maybe today stressed them out,” Chucky said.

“Yeah,” I said distantly.

Or Juice had something to piss Chibs off again.

“I got them,” I said to Chucky, and crept into the garage.

Neither outraged man noticed me slip in and duck down behind a blue car that had been left here for the night.

“Ya better watch your mouth, boy,” Chibs growled.

“Or what? You gonna beat the shit outta me again?” Juice challenged.

I peered over the hood to see Chibs hunched up, ready to spring up and knock Juice out.

“I don’t know where this sudden attitude towards me came from, but it can fuckin’ stop. Right here,” he said, his tone dark.

“I don’t have an attitude, man. If anyone does, it’s you!”

“Oh, I have an attitude?” Chibs retorted, “You listen to me. You need to grow a fuckin’ pair and get over this little shit fit, or I will kick your ass. Ya understand me?”

Then, Juice did something that made me see red. He was getting cocky, and since Christmas, he hadn’t acted like a total nightmare. Not the sweet Juice I knew from before. When he dared to challengingly shove Chibs, something in me snapped. Chibs didn’t budge, as the shove was nothing more than a tease—a form of instigation, as Juice wanted a fight, but it was enough to push me over the edge. As Juice was backing up again, holding his arms out and inviting Chibs to punch him, I shot out from behind the car, taking Juice off guard and shoving him to the floor. He fell backwards and banged the back of his head on a car jack.

“Jesus Christ, Callie!” he cried out.

He rubbed the back of his head and checked his hand for blood.

“I hope you are fucking bleeding. What the fuck is your problem?” I shouted at him.

Juice just shook his head. I aggressively yanked him up off of the dirty floor and pointed to the door.

“You get your ass outside and wait for me, and if you’re not out there when I come out, I’ll beat the goddamn shit out of you. You do NOT TOUCH HIM LIKE THAT!” I yelled.

Juice hung his head and nodded. Chibs tried to shoot by me but I grabbed his arm.

“Don’t you dare,” I said.

We watched as Juice walked to the office. Chucky looked worriedly into the garage. I pointed to Juice. Chucky nodded and followed after him. Once they were gone, I turned to Chibs.

“What the hell happened?” I asked.

Chibs shook his head.

“That boy doesn’t know how to keep his damn mouth shut,” he spat out, then reached into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes, “Ya won’t believe what he said to me.”

He walked to the back workbench and leaned his back against it.

“What?” I asked.

“I was just updatin’ him on some of the shit we needed to get done. Reminded him to look for that motherfucker that beat Venus. He just kind of groaned and ignored me. Then, I told him I had a lot of shit on my plate and I would help, but I’m busy, and that little shit pops off and says ‘Yeah. Too busy having Callie ride your dick.’”

I saw red again.

“That little prick! What is his problem?” I exclaimed.

Chibs shook his head and took a drag from his cigarette. I looked him over and fixed the flap of his breast pocket.

“You okay?” I asked.

Chibs gave me a small smile and nodded.

“‘Kay. I’m gonna talk to him. Let you finish up,” I said.

“‘Kay, darlin’,” he replied.

I patted his bicep and left for the office. I found Chucky and Juice outside, both of them sitting and talking at a wooden picnic table. I walked over to them and patted Chucky’s shoulder.

“You can go finish up. I got him,” I said.

Chucky nodded.

“I accept that,” he said, then got up and went back inside.

I sat down in Chucky’s spot and turned to face Juice.

“Is Chibs okay?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Yeah. A little pissed, but he’s okay,” I replied.

Juice nodded and kept his eyes down.

“I said some brutal shit to him. I didn’t mean any of it. I just…I don’t know,” he said.

I sighed and reached across the table to grip his wrist. He looked up at me in surprise.

“Tell me what’s going on,” I said.

He looked down at the table and shook his head.

“Juice, you can tell me anything. I won’t tell anyone. I swear,” I promised.

Juice gave me a small smile.

“I guess…I guess I’m pissy at Chibs because I’m jealous,” he admitted.

I tilted my head to the side.

“Jealous?” I asked in disbelief, “Why?”

Juice’s big brown eyes locked with mine. He stared at me for a moment before replying.

“Because he has you,” he replied quietly.

I felt my shoulders drop with my jaw. I didn’t know what to say, but this explained his aggression. Shit!

“Callie, I like you…a lot. Ever since I met you, I’ve liked you. I think it’s safe to say I fell in love with you. But, I was going to keep it to myself. Then you and Chibs happened and…I guess I got my hopes up. Stupid, huh?”

I took a deep breath, letting his words sink in.

“It’s okay if you hate me now. Especially after the way I treated Chibs. I’m going to apologize to him. I just…” Juice trailed off.

I stood up from my seat. Juice cowered as I walked around him, probably thinking was going to actually knock him out this time. I sat down beside him, and he slowly turned around.

“Juice, I don’t hate you. I can’t hate you. You’re my brother, and one of my best friends,” I said.

Juice gave me a small smile.

“I think everyone has a jealous moment like that. We lose our shit. Happens. The key is to not let it out,” I continued.

“I know, I know. Like I said. I’m an idiot,” he replied.

I smiled.

“No, you’re not,” I said.

Juice looked down at the concrete. I leaned over and took his arm.

“Juice, listen to me,” I said.

Juice looked back up.

“I love you. Okay? Not like…that, you know? But, I love you, and I will always be here for you, okay? Whatever you need. And this jealous streak? It ends tonight, okay? I know you and Chibs go way back and you both have been through it with each other, but you have to stop this before someone gets hurt.”

“I don’t want anyone getting hurt,” he said.

“Exactly. I don’t want to see you two beat each other bloody, because if that happens, you know I’m going to jump in and hurt someone. It’s time to just move on. Go back to the way things were,” I said.

Juice nodded.

“Can you do that for me?” I asked.

He looked up at me and smiled.

“Yeah. Absolutely,” he replied.

I smiled and hugged him before standing.

“Now, go in there and apologize before I let him kick your ass,” I said.

Juice laughed and thanked me before jogging back up to the garage. I pulled the carton of Marlboro’s from my pocket and pulled the very last cigarette from the pack.

“Crazy idiot,” I grunted out before lighting up.

***

“That’s it? Ya just ask nicely and he stops this drama?” Chibs asked.

I opened a bag on the counter and dug through the cartons of Chinese take-out we picked up on the way home.

“Yup,” I replied.

“What’d ya do? Bat a pretty eyelash and turned him to goo?” he asked playfully.

I laughed.

“Never underestimate the power of a woman,” I said.

Chibs burst out laughing.

“Trust me, sweetheart. I learned that the hard way a long time ago,” he said.

I laughed and wadded the plastic bag I had emptied.

“I also kind of told him you’d kick his ass if he started this shit again,” I added.

Chibs chuckled and opened a silverware drawer.

“What the fuck was his problem? Did he say?” he asked.

I turned to Chibs and put one hand on my hip.

“Juicey boy has a crush on me,” I said.

Chibs stared at me with wide eyes.

“Son of a bitch! Are ya serious?” he exclaimed.

I smiled and nodded. Chibs slammed the silverware door closed.

“No bloody wonder!” he said, handing me my silverware before going through the boxes, “I should kick his ass. Where’s my orange chicken?”

I looked through the cartons.

“If they fuckin’ fucked up my order, I swear—“

I found the carton of orange chicken before Chibs could say anything more.

“Sweetheart, look. It’s right here,” I said, then picked up the rest of the food, “And here are the spring rolls, my teriyaki chicken, the fried rice, and the fortune cookies. Now, would you chill?”

Chibs took his carton and sighed. I looked up at him and smiled.

“Are you seriously that upset over this, Filip? Jesus!”

Chibs cracked a smile.

“Sorry. Still pissed about what he said. No one disrespects ya like that in front of me.”

I smiled and took his arm, rubbing it before hugging it.

“Sweet boy,” I said.

Chibs leaned down and kissed the top of my head. I let go of his arm to grab my food.

“You laid the smackdown on that boy, though. Shit!” he laughed, going to the fridge to grab a beer and tossing me one, “Maybe I don’t need to try so hard to protect ya. Ya seem to have it handled.”

I picked up his box of orange chicken and handed it to him as he walked back over.

“Just protecting my man,” I said.

Chibs gave me this toothy grinned and pecked my lips before grabbing his silverware and the carton of fried rice. I grabbed the rest and he followed me into the living room.

“Dare I ask what Brooke wanted? I know ya said it was a girly thing,” he said.

I sighed and turned to face him before we made it to the couch.

“If I tell you, you have to promise to not tell anyone and to not let Brooke know you know. Don’t you dare tell Rat,” I said.

“What? Is she pregnant?” he asked.

Spot on, Filip.

“She thinks so,” I replied.

Chibs rolled his eyes.

“Jesus Christ!”

I smiled and walked over to the couch, setting my food down on the coffee table and opening my beer. Chibs sat down beside me and set his cartons down.

“What the hell is she thinkin’?” he asked.

“She says she’s on birth control, but her doctor put her on new medication for her bipolar disorder and she suspects that it’s made her birth control ineffective. I know that can happen with antibiotics.”

“Did she take a test?” he asked.

I nodded and stabbed my fork into my chicken.

“There’s chopsticks, ya know,” he said.

I smiled at him.

“This person right here,” I said, pointing to myself, “may be extremely coordinated with a gun, but I can’t use chopsticks worth a shit.”

Chibs laughed at that.

“We ran to the store and bought two tests,” I went on, “She took one, but it came out inconclusive. We’re not sure if it was fucked or what. It wouldn’t show a positive or a negative.”

“Aye, but if she wasn’t pregnant, it would have shown a negative. Unless it really was defective,” he said.

I nodded.

“But if it wasn’t…” he trailed off, munching down on a spring roll.

“She’s just not pregnant enough for the test to decide?” I asked.

He nodded. I cringed.

“Well, she has a back up. Told to keep it hidden in her car. Take it in a couple of days and see what it says. Rat’s gonna shit,” I said.

“Ha! He almost had a heart attack when we scared him into thinkin’ we were kickin’ him out when he got his Full Patch. He’s gonna keel over,” he said.

I smiled and looked up at the TV as I took a swig of my beer, making a mental note to buy my own if I was going to drink with him. The shit he bought tasted like piss.

“You think he’ll support her?” I asked.

Chibs nodded.

“He can be a little dense, but Rat’s a smart kid. He’ll do the right thing. He loves her. It’ll work out,” he said.

I nodded and we settled in silence, finishing our dinner before relaxing into the couch, which seemed to become routine at the end of our day. Not that I was complaining, of course.  
Chibs ran his fingers through my hair, making me involuntarily shiver. I looked up at him to see him watching me, a warm smile on his face.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he said.

I smiled, absently and lightly scratching his chest before reaching up to kiss him. He cupped my face and deepened the kiss.

“I love you, too, Filip,” I said.

Chibs smiled and cuddled me against him.

***

The next few weeks consisted of planning, research that led to no where, no matter what databases Juice and I tapped into, general work at TM, and some news at Brooke, which I learned from Wendy when she came by to thank us for the play set. She had asked me what I knew, and I explained everything. Unfortunately, the next test was positive, and Wendy was going to help Brooke out before they decided to tell Rat. I told her if they needed anything to let me know.  
Juice’s bike arrived just two weeks after ordering, and we spent days at the track. Sometimes alone. Sometimes with Chibs. A lot of the time with Tig. It didn’t take long for Juice to get used to the bike, it was just a matter of getting used to going over 200 miles per hour and not crashing. Laying the bike down at that speed was bad enough, but these bikes were fucking heavy, and laying one down at all was a four person effort to get it back up. Been there, done that. Juice really liked the bike, though, and was excited about our run up to Eureka, where Rane had set up a location for the rally.  
Posters were everywhere, popping up like magic. Advertisements were all over the internet. The boys had gathered kids stuff, food and beer vendors, and hell! Someone in one of our charters had gotten in good with a radio station, and the station was sponsoring a stage and they had a lineup of local bands to play at the rally. Once the fire was lit, it spread like crazy. Of course, everyone knew it was to show our pride and “good moral standing” against the XMC and its followers, but that only made the enthusiasm skyrocket. Besides, what biker doesn’t like congregating, ogling bikes, and getting drunk in the meantime? Even as nontraditional as I was, I couldn’t pass up the bikes and the bands. When the day came, I wanted to kiss Rane for making this whole thing happen.

However, not as badly as I wanted to kiss Chibs when I walked into the kitchen that morning…

Eureka was about six hours from Charming. Quite the ride. However, we had decided to leave at about 6:00 if we wanted to be there by lunch time. Which meant waking up at literally the crack of dawn to get ready. I heard Chibs get in the shower around 4:45 this morning, the sound of the water waking me. I was no morning person. Well, I mean, I didn’t like being awoken. I liked waking up on my own. However, today, I was too excited to fall back asleep, and as soon as I heard Chibs leave the shower and move to the kitchen, I jumped in next.  
After fixing my hair, leaving getting dressed for the day and makeup aside, I threw on a random old t-shirt and soft shorts and made my way to the kitchen. When I entered, I found Chibs over the stove, his back to me. I nearly choked on nothing and shot out of the kitchen backwards, hoping my footfalls were silent. Chibs was standing there, his hair still damp, wearing dark jeans and a black tank, which was pleasingly tight on him. Chibs was not necessarily heavily muscled, nor was he out of shape. He was broad-shouldered, and his arm tattoos curved along the toned muscle underneath.

“Sweet baby Jesus,” I whispered to myself.

I leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. Normally, Chibs was already dressed, or at least, wore a t-shirt. He was certainly asking for something this morning.  
I cracked my neck and shook it off before going back in. Chibs was scraping the skillet with a spatula, stirring its contents. I walked up behind him, slipping my arms around his waist and kissing the exposed edge of his shoulder blade.

“Morning,” I said.

Chibs set the spatula on a dinner plate he had set out and turned around.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he said, then picked me up effortlessly and parked my ass on the edge of the island.

I laughed and put my arms around his neck as he took my face in his hands and kissed me deeply.

“I was just about to come wake ya,” he said.

I shrugged.

“I was already up,” I replied.

Chibs held my sides and pressed his lips to my temple.

“Too excited?” he asked.

I nodded. Chibs smiled.

“As soon as we eat, we can hit the road. Ya have all of your things ready?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Already packed. All I need to do now is figure out what to wear,” I said.

Chibs’ eyelids, though naturally hooded, lowered and a soft growl reverberated through his chest.

“Somethin’ sexy,” he said huskily.

I laughed and playfully smacked his shoulder.

“Shut up,” I said.

He smiled and leaned against me.

“What do ya think I should wear?” he asked teasingly.

I reached up to hold his neck and coaxed his head back down.

“Leather,” I growled before locking our lips together.

“Can do, darlin’,” he said, then helped me back down.

He turned to check the eggs he was scrambling before shutting the stove off.

“I have just about everythin’ in leather. I think I have some leather pants, too,” he said.

I just laughed.

“So, I’m set,” he finished and walked back over to me.

“I gotta find something. I’ve worn the hell out of my soft colors. I’m sick of looking at them,” I said.

Chibs took my hand.

“Ya gotta have somethin’,” he said, leading me back around the island and out of the kitchen, “Come on.”

I sighed and followed him to my room. The room was still a mess, as I hadn’t really made it my own, even though he had given me the okay. I still had shit in duffel bags, and his stuff was still strewn all over the roll-top. The only thing I had bothered to make my own was the small closet in the corner, which only held so much. It was big enough to store a water heater, and that was about it. However, even with small shopping trips to restock my wardrobe, it was just fine for what I had.

“You know I don’t own anything dressy or some shit like that,” I said.

Chibs shot me a look as he hung a t-shirt he had accidentally unhooked.

“Ya think these women at this rally are gonna be in heels and skirts? More like bikini tops and tiny shorts,” he said, “Even if it is just February.”

I smiled.

“Well, if you’re looking for that, you’re definitely not going to find it,” I said.

Chibs smiled and flicked through a few tank tops.

“What’s this number?” he asked.

I looked up to see him pull out this dressier top I had totally forgotten about. It was black, faded a little, with faded and cracked graphics of rifles and roses with a brand that I couldn’t make out anymore. The neckline had been cut so you could see cleavage, but it was still covered by rolled strips of fabric. The back was also cut to about the middle, a webbing of fabric being the only thing covering a triangular section of exposed skin. It was an old and thin shirt I liked to wear in the summer. I had found it at some thrift store in Los Angeles, thinking it was cool, and a steal since it fit.

“God, I had forgotten about that,” I said.

I stood up and walked over to him. He looked the top over before holding it up to me.

“Wear it,” he said.

I took the hanger out of his hands.

“You sure?” I asked.

He smiled warmly.

“Aye,” he replied.

I smiled.

“‘Kay. Wait in the hall and I’ll change real quick,” I said.

Chibs obeyed and eagerly waited outside while I changed. I decided on putting a black camisole under the top to save my back from freezing, as it was still cold here in the northern Cali. I paired the top with a pair of black skinny jeans and adjusted the top, surprised it still fit.

“Okay, Chibs,” I called.

He opened the door and stopped suddenly. I put my hands on my hips and smiled.

“What do you think?” I asked.

Chibs was biting his tongue, looking me over with this smoldering gaze before he held his hands out. I stepped up to him and took his hands. He lifted my knuckles to his lips and kissed them. His eyes locked with mine, and I could feel heat rushing to my face.

“I think ya look beautiful, sweetheart,” he said softly.

It was hard to control the smile on my face. Chibs held my hands, his thumbs rubbing the tops of my fingers.

“I believe I’d be proud to call ya my Old Lady,” he said.

I smiled widely and reached up to stroke his cheek.

“Well, I’d be proud to call you my Old Man,” I said softly.

Chibs smiled and kissed me deeply. I broke away from him and returned to the closet to get my boots. Chibs shuffled his feet and leaned against the doorjamb.

“Maybe, ya know, one day you could wear my crow,” he said slowly.

I grabbed the sought after boots and spun around in surprise.

“Say what?” I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders.

“My crow,” he repeated, “Didn’t I tell ya about that?”

I watched him carefully as I walked to the futon.

“Um, no,” I replied.

Chibs smiled.

“It’s just like what ya did with The VII. Zero’s mark. Same thing. Old Ladies of SAMCRO wear the crow of their Old Man. Shows their loyalty to them and the club. Gemma started the tradition way back when. All of them had same one, but I ya can change it up a little if ya wanted.”

I nodded.

“Lets everyone know you’re my Old Lady,” he said, “Most of the women got theirs when they married, but Jackie’s Old Lady got hers when they were 19.”

I pulled one of my boots on, letting his words sink in.

“Do you…do ya think that’s somethin’ you’d be interested in? Hypothetically, I mean,” he asked.

I reached for my other boot and slipped my foot inside.

“Hypothetically?” I asked.

He nodded. I looked down at the beige carpet, wondering if this was really a hypothetical question, or if he was fishing to see if I was all in. Of course, I was! Wearing his crow? I’d be more than honored to do so.

I finished putting my boots on and stood up. I walked over to him and placed my hands on his chest.

“Yeah,” I said, smiling.

That sweet man’s eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas. He smiled and hugged me tightly.

“Come on. Let’s eat somethin’ and hit the road. I want to be up there by noon, and I want ya ridin’ alongside me,” he said.

He started to leave the room and I followed him out.

“Beside you or ahead? I thought you wanted Juice to scout and ahead and I would trail behind the van?” I asked as we walked down the hall.

“No, love. You beside me. Juicey will trail behind,” he replied.

“Well, I can’t really keep a look-out if I’m congregating,” I said, “Besides, aren’t Prospects supposed to be in the back?”

Chibs turned to me before we entered the kitchen and smiled.

“Aye, but I want to ride beside you,” he said, then took my chin and pecked my lips.

I said nothing more, and didn’t dare let him notice that I had melted into my boots.

***

Riding, like driving, or even mowing—any task where you’re controlling a machine and nothing much is happening has a profound effect on clearing your head. While you’re on an adventure, your mind slips away, part of it going on automatic to control the machine between your legs, and the rest giving way to either blankness or daydreams. Mine gave way to daydreams.  
Throughout the ride, I kept thinking about the crow tattoo, daydreaming of how our relationship would develop. What kind of crow I would have. Where I would place it. What meaning it would hold for me and how Chibs interpreted it. Ever since he mentioned it, I wanted it. To me, it meant a fiercely loyal and deeply loving relationship that will last a lifetime. It also meant that I would be his, sharing my time, affection, and soul with Chibs. We already lived together, but I wondered what life would be like with him within the next months. When I was patched in. How things would be when I learned how to truly be in a relationship again. Living up to what Venus and I had discussed.  
Queen. That was huge. I never envisioned myself ever holding that kind of status within the M/C. Not with the Sons, and definitely not with The VII. Shane’s Old Lady was the Queen bee there, and boy, you knew it. Of course, she came from old money and a socially elite background. Totally the opposite from me—a little punk kid who liked going to grungy bars and such to watch bands and get drunk. Now, I was growing into that role—growing alongside Chibs, who was still learning how to be King. I wondered if marriage was in the cards, and my mind drifted to the bedroom. At the moment, I knew Chibs was who I wanted to be with, and who I wanted to share myself with in that intimate setting, but I also worried how I would react to that situation once in it. I had not had sex with any man since Zero, and he had been my world up until his death. I was completely devoted to Chibs and loved him with every fiber or my being, but I still wondered how that would play out once it happened.  
My worries gave way to more explicit daydreams. I thought about the dream I had a while back, being roughly pushed up against a chain-link fence and devouring his mouth. I was not a rough person in the bedroom, and would never treat Chibs like that unless the situation called for it, but it was a nice distraction on the road, keeping me from getting bored and avoiding driving hypnosis. I thought about the crow tattoo and what it would mean to Chibs. I daydreamed about him kissing it, just shortly after it fully healed. Looking at the ink and knowing I was branded as his. Everyone would know, and even though it sounded very possessive, as if I was being treated like a prize, I saw it differently. I saw it has a seal—a permanent mark of an exclusive relationship. A gift to him. I would be his, and he would be mine. Forever.  
I looked over at Chibs as we passed a sign claiming that Eureka was the next town. He was focused on the road, his face stern and his sunglasses covering his eyes. I smiled to myself and felt a warmth spread through my chest. Everything Venus had said was absolutely right. He was mine, and I would definitely wear that crow proudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave me some love!


	24. Owned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: USE OF OFFENSIVE LANGUAGE

I feel out of place about 90% of the time. I think everyone feels that way. Walking down the street. Going to the grocery store. Even at Redwoody, I never felt like it was my world. My brothers were my world, of course, but I never felt 100% until I was able to attend functions like the rally. Loud bikes, even louder people, and much louder music. Beer, food, cigarettes. An atmosphere of high energy. This was my world. My kind of people. This was heaven.  
I followed behind Chibs and Tig as we entered the parking lot. People were scattered everywhere. Some with cars and trucks, and most with bikes. A row of orange and black motorcycles caught my attention, and a large guy sporting a Grim Bastards cut, wearing a navy bandana around his head and shades threw his hands in the air.

“SAMCRO!” he shouted.

Tig shouted something back and high-fived him as we drove by. We followed Chibs to a free spot and parked our bikes. I pulled my helmet off and set it on the gas tank before dismounting and stretching. Everything hurt.

“Damn,” I grunted.

Juice was laughing at me.

“Stiff?” he asked.

I cut my eyes at him as I rubbed my lower back. Hayabusas were not comfortable on long rides.

“Yeah. It’s been a minute since I’ve ridden for that long,” I said.

Juice nodded.

“Yeah, my back hurts,” he agreed.

Tig came up behind us and playfully slapped us both on the back.

“Suck it up, kids,” he said.

Juice whimpered and tore away from him.

“I gotta piss. Callie, you wanna come hunt for the toilets with me?” he asked.

“What are ya? A goddamn chick? No offense, baby,” Tig said.

Juice and I rolled our eyes.

“I know you have to piss, too,” he said to Tig.

Tig stared at Juice with a deadly glare before shrugging.

“I do,” he said.

Juice and I laughed.

“Who else needs to piss?” Tig called out.

Rat raised his hand and shot over to us.

“‘Kay. Chibby, I’m taking the kids to the potty before they wet their diapers,” Tig announced.

Chibs finished hugging one of the guys from the Grim Bastards before turning to us.

“‘Kay. Let’s all go before those things get nasty,” he said.

Tig nodded. Chibs slipped up to me and held my sides.

“I should have pulled over to let ya guys have a break, but I knew that as soon as I did, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself,” he said.

I opened my mouth to reply, but it was covered by his mouth.

“Ya looked smokin’ hot on that bike,” he growled in my ear.

I laughed and put my arms around him and dipped my head into his collarbone, not quite able to reach his neck.

“Is that so?” I asked.

Chibs just smiled.

“How’s the hip holdin’ up?” he asked.

I absently twisted the beads around his neck between my fingers.

“It’s fine,” I replied.

Chibs smiled.

“Good,” he said.

He quickly kissed me before Tig took my hand, his other holding Rat’s.

“What the hell?” Rat asked, trying to rip his hand away.

“Let’s go kiddies. We’re all going to the potty, and we are all going to have happy hearts and big smiles or no one is getting ice cream afterwards,” Tig said.

I just laughed, but Rat whined, causing Tig to scold him.

“Are fucking me?” Rat asked, then looked over his shoulder, “Chibs?”

“If I hear ya whine one more time, you’re gonna be in time out,” Chibs said, playing along.

Tig swung our arms.

“I hate you,” Rat growled.

“What was that?” Tig asked.

“I said ‘Thank-you!’”

Tig laughed.

“That’s what I thought.”

And with that, Tig held our hands all the way to a line of Port-A-Potties, not giving two shits about the stares.  
After doing our business, Juice and I slipped away for a smoke and to look around. The place was loud and smelled of burgers, cigarettes and exhaust. We waited against the wall of the building that I was sure was used to store the equipment to keep the place mowed. It was nothing but a huge field and dirt driveways. If it had been raining, it would be one hell of a nasty, muddy mess.  
One by one, the guys joined Juice and I at the building.

“This place is beautiful!” Chibs shouted excitedly, then clapped a hand on Rane’s shoulder, “I could kiss ya, brother.”

Rane laughed.

“I will,” Tig said, then grabbed Rane and kissed his cheek.

The rest of us shook our heads.

“He’s so gay,” Juice said under his breath.

I smiled and felt Chibs’ arm slide around my waist. I smiled and put my arm around his.

“Let’s eat something. All these smells are making me hungry,” Happy said.

“Hell yeah, man!” Tig happily agreed.

We began to walk, but before we could get too far, an older guy, bald, wearing a Sturgis tank and ratty denim shorts, a can of beer in his hand and an older woman at his side, called to us.

“Holy shit!” he shouted.

We stopped and looked up.

“Tig Trager!” the guy called.

“Son of a bitch! Hey, man!” Tig said excitedly.

The guy walked up to Tig and they collided in a bro hug. I looked the guy over, noting the marine tattoos on his arms. Must have been an old buddy of Tig’s.

“God, man! How long’s it been? 15 years?” the guy asked.

Tig put his hands on his hips.

“Has to be. It’s good to see you, man. I think the last time I saw you…I don’t even remember. You still in Charming?” he asked.

The guy shook his head, swaying a little. He must have hit the bottle early.

“Nah, me and my old lady,” he replied, gesturing to the woman behind him, “We moved to Lodi. I’ve been working with the damn lumber mill. Those assholes are pieces of shit, but work’s work. You still in Charming, I see?”

Tig nodded.

“Yeah. Still in the M/C,” he replied, then pointed to us as he listed our names, “Chibs, Happy, Rat, Juice, Quinn, Montez, and our Prospects Callie and T.O.”

The guy nodded.

“How are your girls doing?” he asked.

Tig’s face fell. Chibs and I looked him.

“Good,” he said.

Tig rarely talked about Fawn, and only mentioned Dawn a few times. I had no idea if he was still good with Fawn, or if he even knew where she was anymore.

“You still with Colleen?”

“Nah,” Tig replied, “We divorced a while back. I’m living with my Old Lady in Charming.”

The guy nodded.

“Nice, man.”

Happy shuddered beside me and grabbed Chibs’ sleeve.

“Shit! We got company, Prez,” he said.

All of us looked up to see a group of men heading our way, all wearing very familiar cuts.

“Indian Hills,” Rane said.

“Shit,” Chibs hissed.

I looked up at him curiously.

“They’re one of our charters,” I said.

“Aye,” Chibs said, “Not really on the best of terms with them.”

I took a deep breath.

“What happened?” I asked.

Chibs bit his bottom lip.

“I kinda pissed them off last year,” he said, “Among other things.”

I closed my eyes and sighed.

“Chibs,” I said.

“I know. I’ll handle this,” he said, taking one of my hands and squeezing it.

Tig walked up beside me and propped an arm on my shoulder as I stood beside Chibs, watching the approaching members of our Indian Hills charter.

“Chibs,” their President, a shorter guy with pasty skin and bright red hair spoke.

“Gaines,” Chibs said, not at all amused.

The club stopped in front of us and Gaines looked around.

“Didn’t expect to see Mother here, especially since you guys failed to attend Packer’s funeral,” he said.

The anger radiated off of Chibs like heat off of the asphalt, and he tensed up.

“We had other business that had to be dealt with,” Chibs said slowly, trying to keep his cool.

I stared the Indian Hills Prez down. Regardless of the hair, he was a hot-headed little shit.

“I’m sure,” Gaines said, looking down to pull his gloves off, “Heard about Teller getting killed. That’s a shame.”

His words held no sympathy. Hell, they held more sarcasm than compassion!

“Aye,” Chibs said, his anger now in his voice.

He gritted his teeth and I took his arm. I felt the muscles in his bicep unwind, but the tension did not dissolve. Not completely, anyway.  
Gaines eyed each member and smirked.

“I knew SAMCRO was going down the toilet. I didn’t know it had gotten this bad,” he said.

Tig tensed beside me, ready to strike.

“I knew your Irish ass couldn’t handle it,” Gaines said.

Chibs jolted forward.

“Hey! I’m Scottish for a start, ya slimy little prick! Secondly, ya better watch what ya say next,” he growled menacingly.

Gaines laughed.

“You’re all bark and no bite, Chibs. What are ya gonna do? Look what’s happened to SAMCRO since Jax left! You kept the faggot!”

“Hey!” Tig barked.

“And now you’ve got some gash and a nigger as your new Prospects,” he went on.

I bit my tongue to keep from biting the guy’s head off. T.O. tried to shoot forward and attack, but the guys held him back.

“You wanna say that to my face, you dumb son of a bitch?” he spat at Gaines.

Gaines ignored him and stepped up closer to Chibs, challenging him.

“You have single-handedly ruined the Mother Charter. Even Jax wouldn’t have let it come to this,” Gaines said.

Chibs said nothing as he stared him down, being the bigger man in this petty situation.

“No wonder SAMBEL didn’t want you. Jesus Christ!”

Another guy from Indian Hills reached for Gaines shoulder.

“That’s enough, brother,” he said.

Gaines smacked his hand away.

“Shut your damn mouth, Mickey!” he snapped, then turned back to Chibs.

I watched as this Mickey guy, who I noticed was wearing a VP flash, glared daggers at his Prez.

“Ya done?” Chibs asked, annoyed.

Gaines sneered.

“You say one more thing to him, and I swear to God…” I thought.

“Yeah, I’m done, you stupid, sorry, piece of—“

I snapped before I had even realized it, and tore Tig’s dagger from its holster before rushing Gaines, slamming him down to the ground and pressing the knife to his jugular and pinning his flailing arms with my knees. I gripped his neck with my free hand, applying just enough pressure to keep the bastard breathing.

“You wanna finish that sentence, motherfucker?” I spat.

Gaines looked at me with wild eyes. He then looked over his head to Mickey.

“You just gonna stand there, man? Get her off of me!”

“I’m a little bit done with your shit right now,” Mickey replied.

All hope drained from Gaines’ eyes. A laugh interrupted us.

“Goddamn, man!” laughed Tig’s friend, who had forgotten was even there.

Tig walked up beside Gaines.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was a Trager,” he said.

Tig had his hands on his hips, and looked to his friend.

“She is,” he said.

I smiled at that.

“Will you please call your damn dog off?” Gaines snapped.

Tig snarled and kicked Gaines in the face. He cried out, blood pouring from his mouth and nose.

“Now, I suggest you apologize to all of my guys and me, because if you don’t, I will drag your unconscious body into the woods and castrate you in front of your guys,” I threatened through gritted teeth.

Mickey actually laughed, and had to cover his mouth to keep Gaines from seeing.

“Apologize?” he asked.

I pressed the blade deeper into his neck and applied more pressure.

“Yeah, you are, you ginger prick. You’re going to beg for forgiveness, and you will grovel at Chibs’ feet and kiss his boots if you want to keep all of your teeth. Do you understand?”

Gaines looked up at Chibs.

“You just let your Prospects get trigger happy and attack club members?” he asked.

I looked up at Chibs to see him smile.

“As I recall, you started it. Besides, she’s not just a Prospect,” he said.

I smiled and looked back down at Gaines, grinning dangerously.

“Apologize,” I ordered.

Gaines nodded.

“I’m sorry. I was out of line,” he said.

“Damn right, you were!” Tig agreed.

Mickey looked up at Chibs.

“We’ll take care of him, brother,” he said.

Chibs nodded.

“Let him go, baby,” Tig said.

I pretended to pout.

“But he hasn’t shit himself yet,” I said.

Tig burst out laughing, and I could hear the others snickering.

“Let off of him, love,” Chibs said, rubbing the top of my head.

“What are you? His Old Lady?” Gaines spat.

I leaned down closer to his bloodied face.

“Aye, laddie,” I said in my best Scottish accent, which sounded like weak Irish shit, but I tried.

Gaines face fell. I removed the knife, handing it back to Tig before standing and purposely stomping Gaines’ junk. He howled in pain and rolled over on his side, gripping his crotch. Tig laughed.

“Good work, Callie,” he said.

Mickey shook Chibs’ hand.

“I’m sorry about him. We’ll straighten him out. You guys take care, okay?”

Chibs nodded and thanked him. A few more of the Indian Hills guys helped Gaines to his feet, and Tig spat at him.

“Little bitch,” he growled.

When they left, Chibs put his hands in his pockets.

“‘Kay. All of ya go get some lunch. I need to talk to Callie for a minute,” he said.

Everyone nodded, and Tig patted my shoulder before herding the guys back out to the rally. I bit my lip and kept my head down, knowing I was in trouble. I snapped easily, and doing it in public like this, when we were trying to prove we were exactly the opposite of what the XMC was spewing, attacking a fellow club President with no order, as a Prospect. I was in big trouble.

Chibs turned to me, his face not expressing any form of anger towards me. Suddenly, he grinned.

“That’s my girl!” he praised, and backed me into the sheet metal of the building, cupping my face.

I smiled and took hold of his wrists.

“Kickin’ ass and takin’ names,” he said.

I smirked and reached up to stroke his cheeks.

“That’s what I do,” I said, then moved my hands down to his chest, “You’re not mad? I know I keep losing my shit and it’s against the rules—“

“Sweetheart, you just did somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to do to that piece of shit for a long time,” he said, “Seein’ ya do that was absolutely breath-takin’. I’m proud of you.”

I smiled and he kissed me deeply and so suddenly, my breath was lost. I took his face within my hands, kissing him harder. My body heated up as he pressed up against me, his own body heat making the temperature unbearable, had I cared.  
He broke away and I finally breathed in oxygen. Chibs touched his forehead to mine, both of us breathless.

“I love you,” he said.

I smiled up at him and pecked his lips.

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” I said.

Chibs smiled and took my mouth as his once more, this time with care and gentleness. I cradled the back of his head, entwining my fingers in his hair. We were completely and utterly lost in each other. The noise from the rally was a distant echo. The only thing I could hear was Chibs’ breathing and my rapid heartbeat. Chibs tasted like coffee and cigarettes, and though many women would be repulsed, it drove me nuts. I could feel his fingers against my scalp, which had me melting against him.  
The rumbling of an incoming Harley interrupted us, and we had to regretfully break away from each other as it drove by. Chibs propped his arm on the wall above my head and bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to laugh. I watched the Harley go by, a guy looking at us for a moment. I smirked and held Chibs’ sides.

“Makin’ out behind a shed like a bunch of horny teenagers,” he grumbled.

I looked up at him and laughed. He looked down at me and a huge smile spread across his face.

“Your lips are so swollen, love,” he laughed.

I reached up to touch my lips. I could still feel the movement of his lips against mine. His lips were red, too, but the swelling was hidden by facial hair.

“Whose fault would that be?” I asked.

Chibs grinned.

“Yours are just as bad,” I said, “The guys are going to know.”

Chibs laughed.

“I know,” he said lowly.

This time, I couldn’t help myself, and pushed his ass up against the wall, not even hesitating to make the swelling worse.

***

Chibs and I grabbed some lunch and met up with the rest of the club at our bikes.

“Where the hell have you two been?” Happy asked in a very snippy tone.

Chibs held his tray of nachos in the air.

“Gettin’ food,” he replied.

I was tearing into a turkey leg as I walked to my bike, which was parked between Tiggy’s and Chibs’. Tig was sitting on his bike, polishing off a burger.

“Callie, look at me,” Tig said.

I looked up at him and took a drink of my water and sat down on my bike. Tig smirked and reached for my chin.

“What were you two doing? Did you find a Port-A-Potty for two?” he asked jokingly.

Juice, who was parked on the other side of Tig, looked up from his food.

“That’s sick,” we said in unison.

Tig laughed.

“I’m just kidding. Really, though. Where were you two?” he asked.

I smiled.

“Why? I don’t need the daddy lecture,” I said.

“Because your lips are one big hickey,” he said quietly.

Shit.

Tig grinned, then looked up at Chibs as he walked by.

“You got him good, too. Jesus Christ! Beating the shit out of Gaines really did it for you, huh?” he teased.

I just rolled my eyes and took another bite of my turkey leg. Tig finished his burger and wiped his face.

“What did you mean back there, Tigger?” I asked.

Tig looked up at me.

“What’s that, darlin’?”

“When your friend made that comment about me acting like a Trager?” I asked.

Tig smiled.

“That was something I would do. Shoot first, think later. You’re reaction reminded him of how I used to be. Beat the hell out of the shit-talkers,” he said, “Get arrested later.”

I laughed at that. Tig’s smile faded and his eyes fell upon me.

“Being one of the oldest, if not the oldest in the club now. It’s weird. I mean, I remember when Chibby was the youngest. But, being the oldest gives you that weird sense of love and protectiveness over your crew. The parent instinct kicks in. I guess I’m trying to make up for what I failed to do with my girls. You and Rat are the babies in the club, and I think of you two as my kids. But you act so much like I did when I was your age. Sometimes you remind me of Dawn, too. You and Rat are too old to adopt, but if I could, I would, because I love you both so much. But, don’t tell Rat.”

I smiled and reached over to hug Tig. Being orphaned as a teenager had created a rift in my life, and for Tig to be so willing to fill it meant the world to me.

“I won’t,” I replied.

Tig reached up and put his arms around me.

“Love you, Tiggy.”

“Love you, too, darlin’.”

We parted and I returned to my food. Chibs came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. I let my head fall back to look up at him upside-down. He smiled and rubbed the back of my head.

“Hey, nice bike.”

I looked up to see two younger guys approach.

“Is that the Hayabusa?” the other asked.

I nodded.

“Yup. ’05. It’s had a few mods,” I replied.

“Nice! This is your ride?” he asked.

“Hell yeah,” I replied.

“Damn! You like it pretty well? I have a BMW, but the Hayabusa caught my eye. Looking to maybe switch,” he said.

“I love it. It’s short enough for me. It’ll bite you, but it’s amazing on the road. Run over 200 all day.”

“Is it turbo-charged?” the first guy asked.

I nodded.

“His is, too,” I said, pointing down the line to Juice, “Same thing, except his is a 2011.”

The first guy moved down to check out Juice’s bike. The second guy stayed put.

“How does it sound?” he asked.

I smiled. I thought he’d never ask. I had added a new modification about a week ago—one Chibs didn’t really care for.

“Let me show you,” I said, getting a little cocky.

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” Chibs groaned.

I handed my food over to Tig and lightly swatted Chibs’ arm.

“Baby, hush,” I said.

I mounted my bike and began my little demonstration of the sound. It started with a beefy growl and purred as it idled.

“Oh, wow,” the guy responded, “It doesn’t have that high-pitched whine the BMW has.”

I nodded and revved the engine. The roar cracked through the air, sounding more like a sports car than a bike.

“That’s a beautiful sound, baby girl,” Tig said.

The guy’s jaw dropped.

“I gotta get me one,” he said.

I laughed and turned the bike back off. The guy thanked me for the demo before rejoining his friend. Rat stood up quickly and gasped.

“Holy shit! Look at those!” he exclaimed.

We looked up to see a couple of custom choppers coming in. Juice jogged over to me.

“Let’s go look! Come on, Cal!”

I smiled and looked to Chibs.

“Go ahead. Ya three stick together. Don’t start any trouble,” he said.

I stood up and kissed Chibs’ cheek as he kissed mine.

“Be good,” he said.

“I can’t promise you anything,” I replied.

Chibs just smiled and shook his head, and I took off with my brothers to check out the bikes.

***

Juice, Rat and I made it to the opposite side of the rally, watched a band for about an hour, and found ourselves drooling over the dark red Harley Street Glide. The thing was gorgeous, and it was for sale! However, I had no way of getting it back to Charming. Rat had said it wouldn’t fit in the van, as a lot of our luggage and some other things were packed in it, and no one was about to try and lift it. I hated to let it go, but it was just not meant to be.

“Holy shit. Look!” Juice spoke up.

I looked up from the bikes we were walking by to see Juice pointing to the corner of the field, where security was blocking a small group of people holding picket signs.

“It’s starting,” Rat said, “Stupid motherfuckers.”

“Yeah, but hey! I got some information on that asshole who attacked Venus. Look at this,” Juice said

He reached inside his cut and pulled out a couple of folded papers.

“It was a bitch getting information, but Venus called and said she found the number and the name when she was cleaning her car out. Gerard Lambert. This is his information I pulled from his school records. Ivy League brat. Out of college for over a year, now. This is the only picture I could find.”

Juice switched papers and pointed to Lambert’s graduation picture. Kind of a plain, but not bad looking guy. Circular birthmark right under his nose.

“If he shows up today, we’ll be able to find him,” Juice concluded.

“Should we head over there and check it out?” I asked.

“Probably be best to wait until dark. We can take him out under the cover of darkness. Everyone will be good and drunk be then, anyway,” Rat replied.

I nodded. That was probably the better idea.

“You and Tig can come check it out later,” Juice said to Rat.

Rat nodded.

“Hey, SAMCRO,” someone behind us called.

Juice quickly refolded the papers and we turned around. A man walked up to us with a large stack of t-shirts in one arm.

“We’re giving away these t-shirts to all of the M/Cs, you guys want one?” he asked.

“What do they say?” Rat asked.

The guy handed Rat a shirt, and he unfolded it and held it up. On the front read, in big white and red letters, “Fuck Project XMC.”

“That’s awesome!” I said.

“You guys want one? I have large and extra large. Only sizes left,” he said.

“They’re free?” Juice asked.

“Hell yeah, brother,” the guy replied.

“I’ll take a large,” he said.

“Me, too,” Rat said.

The guy picked out two of the shirts, checking the tags before handing them over.

“I’ll take one, too,” I said, “Large. Could I get a couple of XLs for our Prez and VP?”

“Absolutely,” the guy replied, “Here you go.”

He handed the t-shirts over and we thanked him before another M/C member from a club I wasn’t familiar with came over and asked for one.

“Let’s go find Tig and Chibs!” Juice said excitedly.

Rat and I agreed and we ran off like excited little kids.

***

When the sun dipped below the horizon, the partying began. People were starting to get wild. Some were just bodies, passed out in random places from drinking too much too early. The group of protestors had grown throughout the afternoon, but thankfully, they had kept their protesting peaceful, and their words had gone completely ignored. Tig, Happy and Juice split as the sun disappeared to scope the protestors, seeing if they could spot this Gerard Lambert kid and pick him off. In the meantime, I hung out with Rat and Chibs on and off until the majority of the bikers had moved down to the stage. Music filled the cigar and beer scented air, a woman with an amazingly powerful voice singing a cover of a Creedence Clearwater Revival song. The boys had gone down to watch, but I found myself alone with a bag of homemade caramel kettle corn and a hard apple cider. I was walking back to our bikes where I was told Chibs would be, and found him resting on his bike. All nine of us were sunburned and tired. Chibs said he would give Tig two hours to find Lambert, and if he didn’t find him, we would head to the hotel. Travel home tomorrow. Some of us wanted to stay and party. I was one, but Chibs was ready to go home.  
I walked up to him as he rested, one hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach.

“Don’t tell me you’re tired,” I said teasingly.

Chibs jumped looked up to see who had spoken to him.

“Jesus! Hi, sweetheart,” he said gruffly.

“What are you doing sleeping?” I asked, sitting down on my bike.

He yawned and scratched the side of his face.

“Didn’t mean to,” he replied.

He looked over at me, his eyes locking onto my snack.

“Hittin’ it hard?” he asked.

I passed him the bag of caramel corn and took a drink to flush my teeth.

“This is the first thing I’ve had all day that wasn’t water,” I replied.

Chibs smiled and popped a couple of pieces of popcorn into his mouth before passing the bag back. I rolled it up and set it in the grass, having enough of sticky teeth for awhile. Chibs looked at me with a certain gleam in his eye, the gears of a brilliant and most likely crazy idea spinning in his head. I looked him over, his leather jacket shed, wearing his cut over a t-shirt. He was completely relaxed, stretched across the top of that Harley, and my mind ventured. The only one, at least, in my opinion, who was anywhere near “smoking hot” in this relationship was him, and he had had me wound up since this morning. Laying there like he was…goddamn!  
Chibs moved his hand out from under his head and reached for me.

“C’mere,” he said.

I smiled and stood up, taking his hand. He patted his thigh.

“Up here,” he said.

If my eyes could have, they would have popped from the sockets as I stared at him in shock.

“Jesus Christ, Chibs!”

“There’s no one around,” he said, looking both ways to make sure, “Just finishin’ what we started this mornin’.”

I looked around only spying a couple up at the beer tent, then back down to him.

“How?” I asked.

He grinned.

“How you get on any other bike,” he replied.

Which meant straddling him. Jesus!

“One of us is going to fall,” I said.

He smiled and shook his head.

“I won’t let ya fall,” he said.

I sighed and looked around.

“And what if one of the guys comes back?” I asked.

“They’ll see their Prez makin’ out with his Old Lady,” he replied simply.

Yeah, they’ll see their sister straddling their President…stretched out on top of him on top of a bike…sold! I just had to figure out how to do it without sitting on his…belt…  
I looked down at Chibs, a smile threatening at the corner of my mouth.

“Don’t you let me fall, or I’ll take your ass down with me,” I said.

“Promise.”

Chibs sat up, straddling the bike backwards. I parked it on the back and took his hands, sliding down to him. Chibs smiled and pressed his lips to mine. I put my arms around his neck and we moved down. I laid on top of him, holding the sides of his neck as one of his hands held my waist and the other cradling my head, his fingers getting lost in my hair. Laying like this was not nearly as awkward as I had expected. I had honestly never done this on a bike, as I had never really thought about it, and Zero had been just too tall to do so. I fit almost perfectly against Chibs, his back propped up on the gas tank and his feet propped on the back fender, and mine off his sides on the foot pegs.  
A certain nervousness took over me. I really wasn’t sure why. The sounds of the crowd at the stage, the occasional revving of a motorcycle, the shouts from the food trailers, and the sound of Styx being played from the nearby radio station’s tent flooded my ears. When we broke away for a moment to breathe, Chibs stared up at me and smiled, his tired eyes nothing less than loving. He stroked my cheek, making my eyes involuntarily flutter closed for a brief moment, everything surrounding us dissipating. He brushed my fringe out of my eyes and I opened them back up to see Chibs’ sweet face. My nervousness suddenly vanished, replaced by a build up of admiration and love for him. I could hate deeply, and I could love even deeper. It had been a long forgotten feeling until now. Looking at Chibs made me remember. I loved him more deeply than anyone else on the planet, and I had no words to express how I truly felt. But actions speak louder.  
I cupped Chibs’ left side of his cheek and kissed the deeper scar on his right as gently as I could, not sure how sensitive it was. Chibs let out a soft moan and all of his muscles unwound at once as he tucked his face into my neck. I felt his lips press delicately against my pulse, the heat of his mouth causing my own muscles to unwind and I fell apart. Chibs pulled me tightly against him and we found each others lips once more. Chibs molded his lips to mine. My body heated up, fighting against the goosebumps erupting all over my arms as the cool wind blew over the field. I wasn’t sure if Chibs noticed my icy-hot reaction, but regardless, his hands slipped over my shoulders and down my arms, his warm palms soothing the shocked skin. I took cupped one side of his neck, the other hand sliding down his chest. Chibs wound an arm around me to keep me balanced, the other hand cupping my cheek.  
The scratching of his facial hair against my skin was dismissed as I felt his tongue against my bottom lip. In all honesty, I had not expected it, but in any case, he was asking for trouble. I was already wound up. One sentence kept running through my head, racing through my mind with no chance of catching it and killing it to keep me from flushing even more

“You’re making out with the your Old Man stretched across the top of his Harley.”

Shit. I wasn’t one for thinking like that…but damn.

Chibs fingers brushed lightly over the nape of my neck, sending a zap all the way down my spine. I couldn’t help the small moan that escaped my mouth, and had no idea how loud it had been. I parted from him to catch my breath. Try and calm myself a little, but Chibs gave me this shit-eating grin, and I was a goner. I plowed my fingers through his hair and he captured my mouth, finding access. I let out this strangled moan that I had not anticipated. Chibs wrapped his hand around the back of my neck. His tongue moved against mine in a way I had never been kissed before. Certainly not with Zero. Chibs’ knew exactly what he was doing, and when I tried to combat it, a low, guttural moan ripped through his throat. He raised his back an inch or two from the gas tank, breaking this kiss and turning his head, only to place one more warm, and at the risk of sounding disgusting, delicious kiss against my lips as he held me against him in a death grip.  
We parted and touched our foreheads together. Chibs relaxed back into the back, cupping my bad hip which had had it with balancing, the long drive not helping, and had started to shake a little as it weakened. He ducked his head into the side of my face.

“Oh, darlin’,” he breathed out and kissed my cheek.

I pulled his arm from around the back of my neck, took his hand and tenderly kissed his knuckles. He smiled softly and hugged me. I laid my head on his shoulder, putting and arm around his neck and holding his hand. He laced his fingers with mine and he kissed my forehead. I closed my eyes and smiled.

***

Chibs looked up at the stars above him, absently rubbing the back of Callie’s hand with his thumb as he looked at the constellations through the haze of grill and cigarette smoke. His head was still reeling, the feeling of his girl’s lips still tingling on his own. He still could not believe what these passed few months had given him. His sweet Callie had shown how fearless she could be in front of the Indian Hills charter. She let them know no one was allowed between her and him, and she would not let anyone bully him on how to run his charter. She simply didn’t care who it was, she had made it clear she would defend him in any situation, and do it effectively. Seeing her pounce Gaines with a rage that could rival Tig’s, it made him think and feel a certain number of things. “Goddammit, I love you” was the first thing to go through his mind when Callie threatened Gaines. Second was her show of strength and bravery, and how it turned him on. Thirdly, he quickly realized her unwavering devotion to him, and he fell even harder for her, if that was possible.  
He had decided she was going to be his Old Lady. He had decided that as soon as he woke up on Christmas Day to find out the night before was not a dream. And not just his Old Lady in the sense that she would be his main squeeze, and if he found someone to suck his dick on a run, nothing would be said and she would look the other way. Truth was, he doubted she would, and frankly, he didn’t want to do that. He wanted to do this the right way. He wanted Callie to be his Old Lady in the sense that she was his ONLY lady. Whether she be a committed girlfriend or maybe his wife one day, she would be his. Callie was his, but she had shown that she owned his ass, and he would willingly follow her. She had come so far from a sad and lost woman, who knew no friends and no escape except for the end of gun, to his best friend, devoted sister of his boys, and shown she could possibly be Queen. One thing Gemma lacked, and he would never hold it against the woman he had once considered his mother, but one thing that kept her from being what Callie was showing, was a love for the bikes. Callie truly lived up to the term “badass biker chick,” rising from nothing but ash, and that made Chibs smile. She was single-handedly doing exactly the opposite what Gaines had accused him of. She was resurrecting the SAMCRO empire, starting with buying their clubhouse back. As badly as he wanted her to wear his crow, he also had a tattoo in mind for her.  
Chibs cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Callie reached underneath her to fish it out of his pocket and handed it to him. Chibs looked to see Juice’s number and answered it.

“Hey,” he said.

“Tig found Gerard. He and Hap are going after him. Rat and T.O. went to get the van. I’m going to go find Montez and Quinn,” Juice said, “Tig said they’re herding the guy to the field behind us into the woods. You and Cal need to get out there.”

“Got it,” Chibs replied.

Callie looked up as he closed his phone.

“They found him,” he said.

Callie’s lip curled.

“Let’s go hold him down for Tiggy,” she said.

Chibs smiled and patted her shoulder. She climbed off of him. She quickly grabbed the bag of popcorn and threw it in the compartment of her bike. She then held up the bottle of hard cider.

“Want it?” she asked.

Chibs took it.

“My pleasure,” he replied, and chugged the last of it, gritting his teeth.

He preferred the burn of a Jameson versus his Old Lady’s taste for fruit in her drinks, but he couldn’t complain.  
He carelessly tossed the empty bottle into the grass and with that, he and Callie bolted for the fence, slipping between the barbed wire and following the sounds of Tig’s screaming.

***

I could see Lambert, Quinn and Juice close on his tail as he shot into the trees. We had to get into the tree cover before we could shoot, but I was so tempted to drop him now. I had to wait, though.

“I’ll call the cops!” I heard him yell.

“You’re gonna die!” Tig screamed at him.

Chibs and I ran into the trees and heard the sound of bodies drop. Chibs waved me over and we ran up to Juice, who had knocked Lambert to the ground, but he had slipped away. Chibs shot after him, shooting a tree to scare him and grabbed the little bastard by the neck. Lambert screamed as Chibs pressed his gun to the side of the guy’s head.

“Please! Leave me alone! I didn’t do anything!” he cried.

“Oh, is that so?” Tig called out.

He and Happy joined us. Tig was pissed. Far more pissed than I had ever witnessed. His bright blue eyes nearly glowed in the dark, and that snarl was enough to scare me.

“Let him go, Chibs,” he said, pointing his gun at Lambert.

Chibs let go of him, but kept his gun pointed at him. Lambert must have not known who was after him until his saw the Reaper ring on Tig’s index finger. Our flashes were blacked out.

“Fuck! Sons,” he breathed out.

“You threatened my Old Lady,” Tig said calmly, approaching the guy, carrying the impending wrath of redemption, “You know what happens now. This shit gets settled.”

“What are you talking about, man? I never touched anyone’s girl!”

“YOU BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF VENUS! PUT HER IN THE GODDAMN HOSPITAL! Now, if I hear some smartass bullshit fly out of your mouth, I’ll rip your fucking tongue out,” Tig spat.

“Venus? The whore? Holy shit! I knew that tranny slut was connected—“

I felt my anger flare and I raised my gun, not planning on shooting unless he ran.

“Ha! You nasty pervert!” Lambert laughed.

Tig aimed and shot the little fucker in the foot before rushing him and looming over him.

“Your little organization will never win,” he said in a soft, but menacing tone, “You stepped over the line, you worthless piece of shit.”

“You’ll regret killing me,” Lambert said.

Tig smiled.

“I don’t regret anything,” he whispered.

The fear in Lambert’s eyes…it had to match the fear in Venus’ eyes when he beat her senseless. Tig shot the guy in the stomach, then let loose and put several rounds in his chest cavity and head, all muffled by a silencer. Then, Tig put his gun away and stood proudly over the body.

“That was for Venus,” he said.

At that moment, the headlights from the van shined through the trees. Chibs pointed to Juice and Happy.

“Get the body in the van. Drive it straight to Charming and dump it in the woods. Bury it deep,” he ordered.

They nodded and reached down for the body. Tig let out a shaky breath and looked up at Chibs and I. Chibs walked over and pulled Tig into a hug.

“Good work, my brother,” he said.

Tig nodded. I walked up to Tig and hugged him as soon as Chibs let go.

“Go with Rat to Charmin’,” Chibs said, “Tell our lady we settled the score. The rest of us are going to head to a hotel. We’ll be back tomorrow.”

Tig nodded and thanked him, then said goodbye to me before jogging out of the woods.

“We would all go at once, but I know your hip won’t have it,” he said softly.

I nodded. My leg was shaking like crazy from running.

“I’ll work on it when we get home. Strengthen it. The last thing I want is to hold you guys back,” I replied.

Chibs suddenly turned to me.

“You’re not, love. Today was a long, hard ride. You just need rest. Baby, trust me, you’re not holdin’ us back. We all need to rest up here tonight.”

I nodded. Chibs put his arm around me.

“Tig and Venus can rest peacefully tonight,” he said.

I nodded. Chibs took my hand.

“Let’s get out of here, Callie girl.”

I gripped his hand and followed, the remainder of us meeting back at the rally, saying goodbye to our brothers in the Grim Bastards, getting our gear from the van and riding out to a biker friendly hotel south of Eureka. We had to pair up because of the lack of rooms. Montez and T.O., Quinn and Juice, and Happy got a room all to himself. Chibs and I didn’t even think about taking separate rooms. For one, we had kind of just helped kill a member of the XMC, and we needed to protect each other, and two we simply didn’t care.  
Our heads hit the pillows, and Chibs was out. He had had his shower, washing off the grime of the day and soothing his sunburned nose and cheeks. My arms had a fresh tinge of red, which would most likely fade to brown in a few days, but my face was also a little red. I had noticed after I had showered and came out to brush my teeth. Chibs was snoring softly in the bed, and as soon as I finished washing off residual makeup and placing my phone on its charger, I scooted in beside him, accidentally waking him up.  
He snorted awake and looking around wildly. He wasn’t used to having someone in the bed with him. Hell, I had lived with him since December, and had no even traveled down the hall to see his room!

“It’s okay, baby. Go back to sleep. It’s just me,” I whispered.

Chibs smiled softly, then grabbed me and held me to him like a doll.

“Did ya have fun today?” he asked gruffly, his voice muffled into the top of my head.

I nodded.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

“Me, too,” he replied sleepily.

I looked up and pecked his lips before we both fell asleep, ending one of the funnest days I think any of us had had, and successful day of justice for Miss Venus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave me some love!


	25. Brother Time

Mornings at TM are always kind of peaceful. There usually wasn’t much traffic, the office smelled delightfully of instant coffee, and it was quiet…for the most part. It was quiet, excluding the rumbling of motorcycles and the construction crew working on the clubhouse. They were making great progress, and after checking in when I arrived, I could see the finished clubhouse within reach.  
I walked into the office to find Chucky tapping away at a calculator. Juice was inside, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Hey, Cal,” he said.

“Hey,” I said, taking my sunglasses off and setting my bag on top of a file cabinet.

Chucky looked up at me and smiled.

“Bonjour, mademoiselle,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow at him. He was a sweetheart, but the dude could be a little odd. Not that I minded, of course.

“Sí, buenas días, amigo,” I replied, not knowing any French and deciding on Spanish.

Chucky just smiled and nodded. Juice turned to me.

“You want some, Cal?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Yeah, sure,” I replied.

Juice poured me a cup and handed it to me. I thanked him and doctored the bitter plant matter water with what the guys had in stock before sitting down on the couch.

“So, I heard a rumor,” Juice said, turning around and sitting in the fold-out chair across from me, “Two M/C members were seen possibly having sex out in the open at the rally the other day.”

My eyes widened.

“Which M/C?” I asked.

Juice smiled.

“They were sure, but I heard they saw two people in cuts on top of a Harley going at it,” he said, a big, goofy grin on his face.

I bit the inside of my cheek, using the pain to fight back my embarrassment. Of course, we weren’t having sex on the bike, but still.

“Probably two old bikers drunk off their asses,” I said.

Really, it could have been anybody.

Juice smirked.

“You and Chibs were pretty touchy all day. Sure it wasn’t you two?” he asked teasingly.

I rolled my eyes.

“Positive,” I replied.

Juice just laughed as I buried my mouth into my coffee. The office door opened and Chibs and Quinn walked in.

“Hey,” Juice said.

I looked up at them as Chibs leaned down and kissed my forehead.

“Reached out to SAMDINO. They agreed to meet halfway. Get to the bottom of this shit. Shut these XMC fuckers down for good,” he said.

Juice and I nodded.

“I’m takin’ Quinn and Hap. I want the rest of ya to stay here. Keep TM on its toes,” he finished.

I looked up at him in surprise.

“Where are you guys going?” I asked.

“There’s a quiet meet-up spot off the Interstate. About three hours from here,” Quinn replied.

I took a deep breath.

“You guys don’t want a Scout to go with you?” I asked, “That’s a long way without eyes.”

“I know, but we need to keep it low-key,” Chibs replied.

I nodded understandingly. That may be true, but it wouldn’t keep me from worrying.

“Hopefully we can get some more information on these bastards,” he continued.

“Good idea, brother,” Juice said.

“We should be back by tonight. I’m leavin’ Tig here with ya guys. All of ya behave.”

Juice and I nodded.

“We will. You be careful,” I said.

Chibs smiled.

“I will, my sweet girl,” he said, then leaned down to kiss me, “Come outside for a minute.”

I nodded and stood up. Chibs turned to Quinn.

“Go wait for me,” he said.

Quinn nodded.

“You got it, Prez,” he said, then lumbered out the door.

Chibs held the door open for me and guided me out, a hand on my lower back.

“I need ya to do me a favor. I forgot to get it done this mornin’,” he said as we walked out to his bike.

I followed him around the bike to the left side saddlebag. He opened it and pulled out a black handgun.

“I meant to put this in the safe this mornin’. When ya get a chance, run home and put it up?” he asked.

I nodded and took the gun.

“Sure,” I replied.

Chibs reached into his back pocket to produce a well-worn leather wallet. He opened it and pulled out a piece of wrinkled paper that had been “laminated” with clear packing tape.

“Here’s the combination. Safe’s on the top shelf of my closet in my bedroom,” he replied.

I smiled.

“Got it,” I replied.

Chibs smiled.

“Thank-you,” he said, then cupped my face and placed an eager kiss on my lips.

“I love you. I’ll be back soon, ‘kay?”

I nodded.

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” I replied.

Chibs smiled and kissed me once more before hugging me and shutting the lid to the saddle bag. I stepped back and watched as he, Happy and Quinn started their bikes. Chibs put his helmet on and winked at me before revving the engine and taking off, Happy and Quinn following suit. I waited until they were out of the lot before looking down at the gun and deciding to go ahead and take it home now. Get that out of the way.  
I slipped the paper into my pocket and put the gun in my bike before going back into the office. Chucky was on the phone and Juice was in the garage, putting his work shirt on.

“Hey, Chucky,” I said quietly.

Chucky looked up.

“I’m going to run an errand. I’ll be back in little while.”

Chucky smiled, nodded, and covered the receiver.

“Drive safe. I’ll tell Tig,” he said.

I nodded and turned back around to get my bike and run home.

***

The house was quiet, and despite the cold wind, a bird seeking shelter in the roof of the carport was chirping its little head off when I arrived. I parked under the carport, retrieved the gun, and let myself in the side door. I could still hear the bird as I walked down the hall, but it was gone when the heater kicked on.  
I walked down the hall, traveling to the end and to Chibs’ bedroom. I felt weird touching the doorknob, like I was stepping into a forbidden area. I had never traveled passed the utility room. Chibs’ room was around a corner, completely secluded from the rest of the hall. I took the brass doorknob in my hand and turned it, pushing the door open to be greeted by warm light. The inside, however, took me by surprise.  
Chibs was your typical man, and only cleaned what he needed to. Not too into organization and could care less about serious decorating. However, he had tried. The living room was a prime example. Most guys, especially if they lived alone and cared more about the condition of their bikes and if there was beer left in the fridge, didn’t give a shit. Chibs had made an effort to keep up appearances. The couch was leather, and like all of his leather, it was well-maintained. The recliners were exactly alike, both leather, but a tad bit lighter than the couch. The end tables matched, the lamps matched, and the old red rug under the coffee table seemed to compliment the room. It held the charm of my dear Scotsman, and the bedroom was not much different.  
Inside, the first thing you see is an antique dresser with a mirror and an old chair beside it, sitting at an angle against the far wall. His black leather jacket was tossed across it. The top of the dresser was littered with anything and everything. A pair of socks. Jewelry scattered everywhere. A statue of the SAMCRO reaper. Several bandanas. A small black lamp. Loose change. A rosary hanging from the corner of the mirror. It seemed to be his first stop when he walked in, as it was the messiest spot in the room. The rest of the room was relatively clean, save for a belt that had fallen in the floor. A large window was on the back wall, cream and transparent white curtains hung around it, and you could see a clear view of the back porch and a wedge of the backyard. On the wall opposite was a king bed framed by two matching nightstands, which could only be seen once you actually walk in. The closet protruded from the wall, creating a corner and a blindspot when you walk in. The bed, which had been left unmade, was covered in beige and white bedding, a Harley Davidson throw draped over the foot of the wooden bed frame. White and beige lamps sat on the nightstands, and the one closest to the closet also held a bottle of Aspirin, a plain black digital clock, and a small black cord, which I assumed was his phone charger. Above the bed hung a white ceiling fan from a vaulted ceiling, much like the living room, which would illuminate the eggshell walls at night. I was immediately jealous. My room wasn’t nearly this bright, nor was it warm or welcoming. It was actually a very pretty room.  
I walked around the corner to the closet and opened the door. Inside were his jackets, coats, and anything else that could not be folded. On the floor was where he hid the secret mess. Several pairs of boots, tennis shoes, slippers, and a box full of no telling. Up above the clothes rack was the shelf, which was loaded with papers and books, but the safe was front and center. I grasped its handle and pulled the heavy, fireproof box down and swung it around onto the bed. I pulled the paper up and carefully read Chibs’ chicken scratch, messing up once before getting the safe unlocked. After succeeding, I placed the gun inside, which was filled with nothing more than legal papers. Birth certificate, social security, citizenship papers, and anything else he couldn’t afford to loose. I placed the gun inside and closed the safe, making sure it was locked before replacing it and closing the closet. I put the combo on the end table, knowing that if I didn’t, I’d lose it today.  
I sat down on the edge of his bed for a moment and looked around. I imagined Chibs walking in, shrugging off his cut and knife holster, tossing them in the chair with the jacket. I laid back on the pillow, the rush of air from under my head making a very familiar scent waft up my nose. His scent. The clean, yet slightly spicy and wonderful scent of men’s shampoo. In Chibs’ case, brand X three-in-one shampoo, conditioner, body wash. Smelled nice, though. It also had a hint of laundry detergent, and like the majority of the house, the aroma of cigarette smoke. He usually smoked in the kitchen or outside, but it followed him everywhere. That, and the smell of genuine leather. It was a scent I had loved all of my life since the formation of The VII. It meant home. Chibs’ scent calmed me and sent my mind to a very dark place. I never wanted to not know the scent, or ever forget it. It meant I was not alone. It meant my best friend—my Old Man was around.  
I sat up and looked around, not wanting to leave, but knowing I needed to get back to TM. I just wanted to crash on the bed. In living with him, spending hours at a time together, riding either with him or at his side, I had become accustomed to him being around. The idea of him going to meet with SAMDINO shouldn’t bother me. He’s done runs like this for years, but that nagging worry of my boys roaming without either Juice or myself riding ahead on the hunt for anything that could endanger them would not go away.  
I sighed and ripped myself away from the bed before I put my mood in the shitter. Chibs was a grown man. He was fine. It was myself that was in more danger. I was still on the hit list, and though under the protection of SAMCRO, being home alone while my Prez was gone and VP was almost 15 minutes too long away, I needed to get back to TM. I walked over to the chair on the other side of the room and without really thinking about it, picked his belt up and draped it over the jacket, the black always being my favorite over the brown one he had worn today. I then looked back at the room and my mind wandered. It was not impossible that I may upgrade to this room, and even though I had woken up beside him and often on top of him, I wondered what it would be like opening my eyes to his room, the warm morning light flooding in, Chibs peaceful face half buried in the pillow case beside me. I smiled to myself. Maybe one day.

***

I sat at the TM computer, typing away at a spreadsheet while Chucky instructed me and read off the numbers. He had a device that helped him type quickly with his two index fingers, relieving his handicap, but typing is much easier with all ten and a standard keyboard, and after watching him struggle after pulling a customer’s Nissan around, I offered to type it for him. He was grateful, vocalizing his gratitude in French. I just shook my head and dove into the tedious and hair-ripping task of Teller-Morrow bookwork.  
As we finished a sheet, Rat burst into the office. Chucky jumped and I looked up to see a very troubled Ratboy Skogstom.

“Hey, Rat,” I said cheerfully.

“Hey. Can I talk to you?” he asked, sounding highly irritated.

I shot him a worried look.

“Yeah. You got this, Chucky?” I asked.

He nodded and grabbed his special keyboard.

“Yeah, I got it. Merci,” he said.

I stood up from the desk and followed Rat out the door. He led me around the building.

“You knew my girlfriend was pregnant?” he asked accusingly.

Ah, shit!

I shifted my weight on one foot and pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Yeah. What did she tell you?” I asked.

Rat was pissed. His eyes were wide and his jaw was set.

“She said she felt sick. I offered to go to the pharmacy and get her whatever she needed. Wouldn’t tell me what she needed. Finally found out she’s fucking pregnant, and that you and Wendy already knew! What the fuck, Callie?”

I held my hands up before he ripping my head off.

“Hey! Listen to me. That day she came here looking for you. Remember?”

He nodded.

“She was looking for me. Wendy was at work. She was scared. She came to me. I offered to go with her to get a test, she took one, and it didn’t come out. That was it. I found out later that the next test came out positive.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? She’s nearly seven weeks pregnant!” he asked.

“Because she needed to tell you,” I replied in a calm, but stern voice.

Rat gritted his teeth and put his face in his hands.

“God, Callie! This is fucked up. I don’t know what to do!” he said, starting to panic a little.

I stepped forward and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Rat, look at me,” I ordered.

He looked up.

“She’s just as scared as you are. Now, you guys have several options, and you need to decide which one to use. You both have to agree on one, because whichever you choose is permanent,” I said.

He nodded.

“Abortion’s out of the question,” he said firmly.

I nodded.

“Okay. Well, there’s always adoption.”

Rat visibly swallowed and looked down in thought, his eyebrows creasing together.

“I don’t know if I want that either,” he said, “What…what would you do?”

I stared at him in surprise.

“What would I do?” I reiterated.

“Yeah. What would you do right now if you found out you were knocked up?” he asked, “Chibs’ or um, your late-fiancé?”

I felt my shoulders sag. God…

“I would think about my current situation. Money-wise. Living conditions. Club issues. If money was stable, and living conditions were good, or could easily be upgraded, and if the club was not in a bad spot, I would have it. Zero or…Chibs. If those things were not good, I may consider adoption. However, if things are really bad, and I mean, you know, awful, I would consider the third.”

Rat nodded. I hoped what I said made sense. I had always wanted to have kids with Zero, but with his health problems, we had no time to plan. But Chibs? It had never crossed my mind. It just didn’t seem like a realistic idea.

“How old are you, Rat?” I asked.

“31,” he replied, “Brooke’s 23.”

Oh, Jesus Christ!

“Okay. What do you want?” I asked, “Because you’re, I think, mature enough, but Brooke? She’s young, man.”

His widened.

“I know, but we work,” he said, “I want it.”

I felt a small smile cross my face.

“What about Brooke?” I asked.

He shrugged.

“We never discussed it. I just…I think she’s thoroughly freaked.”

I nodded.

“Okay, then you need to tell her you want it. You need to give her a sense of security. She needs to know her man is going to support her every step of the way. You understand? You can’t bail on her.”

“I won’t. God, I love her too much to do that,” he said.

“Then talk to her. But look, Rat. If she wants to do something else, then you need to back her on it. It’s her body, bro. You were just the sperm donor.”

Rat smiled.

“I know. I get it,” he replied, then clapped a hand on my shoulder, “Thanks, Cal.”

I nodded. Inside the garage, we heard Tig scream out.

“Kids! If you want lunch, you better get your asses in here!” he shouted.

I looked back around the corner to see Juice shutting the doors. Break time.

“Maybe we should ask Pops what he thinks you should do?” I suggested.

Rat laughed.

“Oh, yeah. Tig has the best advice!” he said sarcastically, “He doesn’t need to know.”

“Everyone will know in a few months, anyway,” I said.

Rat groaned and looked up at the sky. I took his arm.

“Come on. Let’s go tell Dad he’s going to be a Grandpa,” I said jokingly.

“Fuck,” was all Rat had to say.

We walked into the office to find Tig on the phone.

“Callie, quick. Pizza toppings,” he said.

“Cheese or pepperoni. Doesn’t matter,” I replied.

“Rat?”

“Sausage or pepperoni,” he replied.

Tig nodded and ordered two boxes of supreme and two more of pepperoni, along with a couple of bags of breadsticks and a cinnamon calzone. After he hung up, he leaned back in the chair. Chucky was stuffing a file into the cabinet.

“Hey, Chucky, why don’t you go into the garage and help clean up for a second?” I asked.

Chucky nodded.

“I accept that,” he replied, then scrammed.

Tig looked up at me worriedly.

“Why’d you chase Chucky out?” he asked.

I sighed and shot Rat a look as I sat on the edge of the desk.

“We have to talk to you about something,” I said.

Tig’s worry deepened.

“Ah, fuck! What did you two steal?” he asked.

Rat laughed.

“Nothing!” we replied in unison.

“Just have a question,” I said.

Tig leaned forward.

“What is it, baby girl?” he asked.

I stared at Rat.

“What would you like to be called? Grandpa or just Gramps?” I asked.

Tig stared at me with buggy, frightened eyes.

“Oh my God, you’re pregnant!” he exclaimed.

Rat and I burst out laughing.

“No! Fuck no!” I said, but my words went ignored.

“Goddammit! I knew it! It WAS you and Chibby out there fucking at the rally!” he shouted.

I rolled my eyes. Son of a bitch!

“Tig, no! Not me!” I said.

Tig looked from me to Rat. Rat gave him a small smile.

“Brooke’s pregnant,” he said.

Tig’s face fell.

“You dumbass,” Tig snarled.

Rat grinned.

“Come on, Gramps,” he said.

“Grandad,” I teased.

“Grandaddy,” Rat said.

“Grandgramp.”

“Grandpappy.”

“Papa.”

“Pops.”

“Pappy.”

“Pa!”

“Pap-paw.”

“SHUT UP!” Tig exploded, then took a deep breath and spoke calmly, “Brooke’s pregnant?”

Rat nodded.

“Yeah. Found out this morning. Apparently, the girls already knew,” he replied.

Tig leaned forward.

“You and Brooke are too young. What are you going to do?” he asked.

Rat shrugged.

“I know that I want to keep it,” he replied.

Tig nodded.

“Then take a lesson for our dearly departed Bobby. Marry her if you truly love her, and don’t you dare divorce her because she’ll eat you alive with child support bills.”

Rat smiled and nodded.

“You think I should?” he asked.

“You already knocked her up!” Tig said.

“Either way, it’ll show her you mean you’ll take care of her and your kid,” I said.

“I do mean it!” he exclaimed, voice cracking.

“Then marry her, boy. And I swear to God, if you ever dare call me Grandpa again, I’ll cut your nuts off!” Tig threatened.

Rat smiled and stood up.

“No problem, Pops,” he said, then opened the door to the garage, nearly smacking into Juice.

“And if you get knocked up—“ Tig said, tapping my arm

“I won’t!” I hissed.

Tig paused for a moment.

“I was going to say, if you do, I better be with you at that hospital so I can watch Chibby freak out and pass out,” he said.

I laughed.

“I have no plans for that shit, Tig,” I assured him.

Tig laughed and patted my leg. Juice entered the room.

“Montez is here, so I’m gonna clock out,” he announced.

“‘Kay. Why don’t you go out and get the pizza. Here,” Tig pulled his wallet out of his pocket and handed some cash to Juice.

Juice agreed and headed out the door. Tig stood up and pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

“It’s your man,” he sang, then answered it.

I perked up. Tig talked to Chibs for a moment, his responses short, making it impossible to piece together what they were talking about. The call was short, and when it was over, Tig smiled at me.

“He says he’s fine and to tell you that he loves you and they’ll back back by this evening,” he replied.

I smiled. Tig kissed my forehead.

“I know you’re worried about him,” he said.

I looked down, embarrassed by being proven guilty. Tig gripped my shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he said .

I nodded.

“Come on. Let’s eat some pizza, then you get your ass out of here and spend some time with Juice.”

I smiled.

“You two need to go out and play. Go shoot some shit. Unwind,” he said.

I nodded and agreed, and followed him outside to get the pizza.

***

Juice and I decided to head up to the cabin and get away from the world for a little while. There wasn’t much to do, as it was really to windy to shoot. So, we went inside, started a fire in the fireplace, and sat around, listening to the radio and idly talking.

“I do know one thing we could do if you’re game,” Juice said.

I perked up. Juice sat up from laying on the couch and reached into the pocket of his cut, producing a Ziploc bag full of dried green plant matter I immediately recognized.

“Wanna hang with my buds?” he asked with a grin.

I stared at him in shock.

“Holy shit, Juice! Where’d you get that?” I hissed.

Juice shrugged.

“I have a card,” he replied, “I get a 20% discount as part owner.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me!”

“I shit you not!”

“What the fuck, Juice? What is it? Chronic?”

Juice laughed.

“No! Blueberry,” he replied.

I could only smile. Juice shook the bag.

“Wanna?” he asked.

I grinned.

“You got papers?” I asked.

Juice hopped up and went to a cabinet where he found not only rolling papers, but a one of the boys’ stash.

“That’s Tig’s. He’ll kill us if we smoke it,” he said.

“Well, let’s get into your shit,” I said.

Juice agreed and before long, we were laying across the chairs, staring at the ceiling fan above.

“I didn’t think you were a stoner, Juicey,” I said.

Juice took a toke and passed the joint to me.

“I didn’t know you smoked pot,” he said.

I held the smoke in for a minute before slowly letting out and passing it back.

“Not all the time,” I replied, my voice choked, “I used to be a bad kid, I guess.”

Juice just laughed and finished off the joint.

Truth was, I really did used to smoke pot. Not a lot, but on occasion. When Zero and I were teenagers we smoked a lot, but I had long since abandoned it. Really wasn’t for me, and I had dropped it along with smoking, but my brothers now are awful influences. As soon as I realized I was stoned, I remembered why I had quit. The fucking munchies. However, aside from the munchies, I was pretty chill. It was Juice that was little bit, shall we say, messy. Messy, and of course, hilarious. He had me in tears twice.  
That evening, I was half asleep on the couch. Juice had tweaked out a little and made a fort out of cushions, convinced that aliens were after him. He might have gotten into Tig’s stash.

“Do you even know what’s in that shit?” I asked.

Juice was holding the coffee table for dear life.

“Is…is the floor still underneath me, Callie?” he asked.

I slowly looked over to him to see his legs sprawled out behind him and his knuckles white as he gripped the edges of the table. I burst out laughing.

“You are so stoned, Juice. Put Tig’s shit up before you smoke enough that he’ll notice,” I said.

“Callie, I’m serious!” he cried out.

I reached over my head and picked up a flashlight that had been laying around. I then dropped it on the hardwood floor and screamed. Juice screamed bloody murder and dropped to the ground. I was dying of laughter.

“You are so stoned!” I breathed out, my laugh turning into full on chain-smoker laugh.

I was sure I wasn’t stoned anymore. It had been hours, and I had only had the couple of tokes of Blueberry, and had since had water and almost four fudge pops that someone had left in the freezer. I was full and tired, and had called Tig to tell him where we were and that I might need some help with Juice.

“Callie, that was mean,” Juice whined.

“Aw, Juice,” I cooed, “I’m just fucking with you.”

Juice sat up and looked around, making sure he wasn’t going to fall to his death.

“I love you, brother,” I said.

Juice let out a shaky breath.

“I love you, too. Can you help me up?”

I stood up from the couch and held a hand out. Juice stood on unsteady feet and smiled a crooked smile.

“I think I should stick to Blueberry,” he said.

I laughed and patted his arm.

“Let’s clean up,” I said.

Juice nodded in agreement and slowly turned when we heard the roaring of motorcycles coming up the driveway. Juice’s back went as straight as an arrow and his eyes were at their widest. He turned and stared at the door in fear.

“The jig is up!” he exclaimed, and dove into his pillow fort.

I sighed and shook my head. He wasn’t totally out of the woods yet.

I went to sit back on the couch. The front door opened and Tig and Chibs walked in and looked around.

“Goddamn! It smells like Woodstock in here!” Tig exclaimed.

Chibs walked in and observed the fort. He looked up at me, put his hands on his hips, and a smirk slowly played upon his lips.

“I thought I told you two to behave?” he asked in a soft, tired, but still authoritative voice.

I smiled.

“What? It’s just me and my ganja,” I said.

Chibs smiled and walked over to me. He leaned down and pecked my lips before sitting beside me.

“I didn’t know you smoked pot, Callie girl,” he said, reaching for the half of a blueberry joint on the table.

“We were bored. Shouldn’t have done it. I ate like, a million fudge pops,” I replied.

Chibs laughed.

“You should have been here earlier. Juice somehow fell in the toilet,” I replied.

Chibs lit the joint and took a hit.

“Sounds like you guys had a very eventful afternoon,” he said, “Jesus, that shit’s nasty!”

I smiled. Tig went to the kitchen and brought back a couple of shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey. The boys passed the glasses around and poured themselves a drink.

“How did it go with SAMDINO?” I asked.

Chibs sighed heavily.

“Trip was fine,” he replied.

“Pretty routine,” Quinn added.

I nodded.

“One of their guys was out of the hospital. He was at home restin’. The other two won’t be out until tomorrow,” Chibs said, “They discovered that that Anthony kid. The one we saw on the news? He’s settin’ these shitstorms in motion. Runnin’ the whole operation.”

“Found out where he lives, too,” Happy said.

I looked from Chibs to Happy and back.

“Where?” I asked.

Chibs took another toke and passed it off to Tig.

“You’re not gonna like what you’re fixin’ to hear, love,” he said.

He reached down and downed his shot. I watched him worriedly.

“What?” I asked.

Chibs looked down in thought for a moment.

“Business is bein’ ran out of Huntington Beach,” he said.

I gritted my teeth.

“Shit!” I hissed.

“You don’t think these assholes could be in bed with The VII, do you, Callie?” Tig asked.

I shook my head.

“Doubt it. It’s like RJ said. Shane was all about privacy. They’re most likely underground if this shit is crawling on their turf,” I replied.

Tig nodded. Chibs looked around the room.

“Where is he?” he asked.

“Called him,” Tig replied, “He’s going to come pick up dumbass and take him home. Come back in the morning to pick up the bike.”

Chibs nodded.

“‘Kay. Let’s all of us go home. Get some sleep. Be at chapel at 10:00 tomorrow mornin’,” he said.

Tig nodded.

“You got it, brother,” he said.

Outside, we heard the sound of another bike. Montez looked out the window.

“RJ,” he said.

Chibs nodded.

“We’re gonna end this shit before someone else gets hurt,” he said.

We all agreed, and the guys finished off the drinks before Quinn helped Juice out of the floor. Chibs turned to me and stroked my cheek.

“Ready to go home, sweetheart?” he asked.

I smiled and nodded.

“You good to ride, or do you wanna ride with me?” he asked.

I smiled and leaned over to him.

“Well, as much as I want to ride with you,” I said, causing him to smile, “I gotta get my bike home. I’m good to ride.”

Chibs coaxed my face closer and softly kissed me.

“Let’s go home, Callie girl,” he said.

I agreed, and took his hand, getting up and following him out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	26. Operation Hollywood

“These XMC fuckers are actin’ like they’re God’s gift to Earth. I dunno about you guys, but I’m sick of this shite.”

Chibs didn’t even address a good morning or ask if there was anything we needed to discuss about Diosa or Redwoody, or even TM. He had been hung up about Project XMC all night. Apparently, whatever he saw or heard from SAMDINO had profoundly affected him.

“They gotta die, brother,” Tig said.

“A lot,” Happy added bitterly.

He and Quinn had not been in the best mood either.

Chibs looked between his brothers.

“These little piss ants are not only spreadin’ hate where it ain’t needed, but they have put three of our SAMDINO brothers in the hospital, murdered Packer, and they’re murdering others in Southern Cali and framing other M/Cs. Besides that, they’re in Charmin’. They hurt Venus, put her in the hospital. Threatened us! They know one of theirs disappeared in Eureka. It’s only a matter of time before all of them move north, and we can’t have that. For the safety of our charters, fellow M/Cs, families, and ourselves, I’m not gonna sit here and let that shit happen. It cannot go any further!”

All of us nodded and agreed.

“We gotta put a stop to their shit,” Chibs finished.

“How?” Rat asked.

Chibs leaned forward.

“We get dirt on ‘em,” he said lowly.

“Good luck with that, bro,” Juice spoke up.

Chibs looked up.

“Checked out the founders. Anyone notable I could find associated with the XMC. There’s nothing. No records of anything! They could have been wiped, but as far as the system goes, these guys are saints. Clean.”

“Shit,” Tig spat.

“So, we put dirt on them,” Chibs said, his eyes wide and hell bent on shattering the organization.

He leaned back and looked up thoughtfully.

“I think I know what we can do,” he said.

All of us looked up at him. He leaned forward, the hatred his eyes had held all morning now fading as mischief replaced it.

“What do ya guys say about a little scheme?” he asked.

Tig laughed.

“What’d you have in mind, brother?” he asked.

Chibs smiled proudly.

“Cash for Cadavers,” he replied.

The look on Rat’s face was priceless.

“Excuse me?” he asked.

“Oh, hell yeah, brother!” Tig said excitedly.

“I’m in!” Happy added, seeming even more excited than Tig.

“No!” Juice whined, “Not that! Come on!”

Chibs grinned.

“What the hell is ‘Cash for Cadavers?’” I asked, not being able to keep my mouth shut.

“Little scheme Jackie Boy created. I came up with the name,” he replied.

“You proud of that?” Tig asked.

“Better than anything you could come up with,” Happy popped off.

Tig, who was just about to stub out his cigarette, flicked it at Happy. The Sergeant at Arms didn’t even flinch.

“What is it, love,” he said, “We take some fresh bodies. Sometimes race matters, but anyway. We grab some bodies and plant them on the turf of the enemy. Create a fake crime scene. Stirs up a shit storm with the cops and the Feds. Originally, it was to distract the cops from the shit we were doin’, but I think it’s the perfect way to unravel this little organization.”

I nodded.

“We already have the body, then,” I said.

He smiled.

“Exactly. We take the body down to Huntington Beach. Plant it on this Anthony fucker’s house. Make it look like he killed a member. It may only be a temporary solution, but I believe it’ll crush ‘em.”

“Let’s vote it!” Quinn said excitedly.

“Wait! You’re serious?” T.O. asked.

“Ah, come on, man! Don’t tell me you’ve never done this before,” Tig teased.

T.O. looked appalled.

“You guys and your corpses,” he said.

The guys and I laughed.

“Okay, listen,” Chibs said loudly, “If we do this, we have to do it soon. That body is probably beginnin’ to get ripe. We’ll put it in the van, ride in at night—“

Ride? To Huntington?

“Chibs, hang on,” I spoke up.

Chibs looked up at me.

“We can’t just parade in there. That’s VII turf. They’ll gun us down immediately,” I said.

Chibs nodded, chewing his bottom lip.

“True,” he agreed.

“We gotta go incognito, brother,” Tig said softly.

Chibs nodded again.

“Probably be a good idea for all of us to be separated. Just in case we do need to make a run for it,” Juice said.

Chibs rubbed his eyes.

“I hate to say it, but we’re gonna need cages,” he said, “And I don’t fuckin’ own one.”

A thought ran through my mind, and the fact that it was so instant made me freeze.

“I could borrow Venus’ car, but she needs it,” Tig said.

“We have the van and the tow truck, but we can’t take the truck. Markings. Not safe or very realistic to throw all of us in the van with the body,” Rat said.

Rane sighed heavily.

“Well, I have my truck, but I don’t know if we can trust it for the trip. Had a lot of problems with it. Definitely not a quick get away vehicle,” he said.

I bit my lip.

“We need to nab some cars, sounds like,” Tig said.

Chibs shook his head. I knew exactly what we could do. I was just scared to tell them.

“I have a few,” I spoke up.

Here goes nothing.

Chibs head snapped up and he stared at me in surprise.

“What?” he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders and sat forward.

“I have a few cars back at Zero’s place. I never sold it. Everything’s still in my name,” I replied.

Chibs tilted his head down and glared at me through his eyebrows with a look that clearly screamed: “We have to talk later.”

“You’re shitting me!” Tig said.

I shook my head.

“There’s a couple we can use,” I said, knowing I was sort of twisting the truth a little.

“Yeah, but won’t it be a risk going to Huntington to get them?” Chibs asked.

I shook my head.

“They’re in Los Angeles,” I replied.

With that, all of the boys stared at me. I exhaled sharply and propped my elbows on the table.

“A couple of years before Z passed, the club started getting suspicious of us because we were helping a couple of Prospects that didn’t deserve to die. As a precaution, we decided to move out of Huntington, and our home there became a dummy house. The only thing there is the stock we were holding. Our shit is in L.A. The club has no idea,” I explained.

Chibs was staring at me with his jaw slack.

“That’s bloody fuckin’ marvelous,” he said.

I smiled.

“We could drive down there, pick a few off, make the drop, and bring them back to Charming. No telling when we might need them again,” I said.

“They’re legal?” Happy asked.

I nodded.

“Yup.”

“Perfect,” Tig said.

“But look,” I said, “Even if we get them, we gotta do it when The VII are gone. Last time I checked, they were still making product runs to Vegas once a month. All four of the inked members usually go up there, make the exchange, and they party for a minimum of four days. Shane has a horrible gambling addiction.”

Chibs nodded.

“So, we need to find out when their next run is,” he said.

“And fast,” Tig added.

Chibs looked to Juice.

“Where’s RJ?” he asked.

“Apartment hunting. He went to meet with a landlord before I left the house,” he replied.

“‘Kay. Reach out. See if he knows their schedule. Go,” he ordered.

Juice nodded and stood up, fishing his cell phone out of his pocket as he left the room.

“You are aware we may have to drop that Anthony kid, right?” Tig asked Chibs.

Chibs nodded.

“We may have to make a blood run, Callie girl,” he said to me.

I nodded.

Juice returned after couple of minutes, looking flushed.

“RJ says if they’re still steady, they already left for Vegas this morning,” he said.

Chibs gritted his teeth.

“Shit! We gotta move now, then,” he said.

He looked around the table in deep thought.

“Tiggy, you and Rat get the van. Go get Gerard’s body. Take Callie with you. She needs to learn the body policy,” he said.

Tig nodded.

“Taking the kids to wake the dead,” he said.

“Then, I want Rat, Juice and Hap in the van on the way down there. Quinn, you, me, Callie, and Tig in your truck. The rest of ya stay here and keep everythin’ business as usual. Got it?” he asked.

“Vote it?” Tig asked.

Chibs nodded and reached for the gavel.

“All in favor of SAMCRO goin’ Hollywood?” he asked.

All of us raised our hands.

“Yay!” we said.

Chibs slammed the gavel down.

“Let’s go!” he said.

We stood up from the table and quickly filed out the door. Chibs grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

“Ya never told me ya owned anythin’ other than your bike,” he said.

I bit my lip nervously.

“Kinda didn’t plan on going back, either,” I replied.

I really didn’t think it mattered.

Chibs frowned touched my cheek. He knew what that meant.

“What kinda cages?” he asked, changing the subject, probably more to steer his focus more than mine.

I grinned.

“You’ll just have to see, baby,” I said.

Chibs smiled and gave me a chaste kiss as Tig screamed for me down the hall. Chibs sighed and shook his head.

“Ya be at TM in an hour,” he said.

I smiled.

“Yes, dear,” I replied playfully.

Chibs smirked and kissed my forehead before letting me go. I caught up with Tig, who had an arm around Rat’s shoulders.

“Field trip, kiddies!” Tig declared.

Rat cut his eyes at Tig. Digging up bodies with Tig. This was going to be interesting.

***

“Why did we bury him so deep?” Rat asked.

I was sitting in the back of the van, curled up in a ball with my face in my shirt, smashing my nose into my cleavage in a futile attempt to escape the smell. Tig and Rat had decided let me sit this out and show me how SAMCRO hides bodies.  
Chigger Woods. As many trees as there were graves. All SAMCRO bodies. The place would have been beautiful, but even a skeptic of the paranormal could feel the ghosts crawling everywhere. It was an unsettling feeling. Tig drove around briefly, showing me the trails and trying to remember which graves where singles and which were mass. I was not bothered by it. The VII had also had a dumping ground. Unfortunately, the bodies were quite often not the enemy, but innocent Prospects. Whether they were shot by the enemy or dispatched by Shane. Here was mostly enemies, and maybe it was the lack of markers, but it felt a lot less disturbing than it did to walk through a public cemetery.  
Tig drove us up to the grave where they had buried Gerard Lambert. They had buried him deep to conceal the smell, and the ground was cold enough to slow the decomposition process, but the smell was still there when they uncovered the head.

“I’m glad you’re driving this thing down there and not me,” Tig said.

Rat rolled his eyes. Tig looked up at me.

“Come here, Callie,” he said.

I hoped down out of the van and walked up to the grave.

“You got a thing about bodies?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“‘Kay. Get down there with Rat and help him get it out. I’ll get the tarp,” he said.

I nodded and slipped inside the grave. The body of the XMC fucker was now blue and purple, and reeked worse than a sulfur pit in the summer. Any forensic team could figure out that this body was not entirely fresh, but I hoped it would at least stain the XMC’s rep enough to keep them out of our business.

“Grab the feet, Cal,” Rat said.

I stood with my feet apart and reached down to pick up the body’s feet.

“Easy with it. Bodies bruise,” Tig warned, “Gently swing it up here.”

Rat looked to me.

“On three?” he asked.

I nodded. Rat counted off and we swung the body up onto the ledge. Tig reached down and rolled it up into the tarp. I helped tie it off and load it into the back of the van.

“Maybe that will help with the smell,” he said.

“Six hours is a long time to spend with a rotting corpse,” I said.

Tig smiled.

“Smell don’t really bother me. You wanna make a bet? Ten bucks says one of them pukes by the time we get to L.A,” he said.

I smiled.

“I doubt Happy will vom,” I said.

Tig put his hands on his hips.

“Nah. My money’s on the boys,” he said.

I laughed.

“You’re on,” I said.

Tig grinned and shook my hand.

“Go refill the hole. We gotta scram,” he said.

I nodded and rejoined Rat to fill the grave.

***

When we all met up back at TM, Rane was getting out of his truck and Chibs was picking up a plastic bag out of the back. I rode in behind the van and Tig and parked my bike in the line. Chibs handed the bag to Rat through the window of the van before walking over to me and taking the handlebars of the bike, pushing me as I walked the bike back.

“Ya get it done?” he asked.

I nodded and, pushing my shield up and the kickstand down.

“He’s in the back,” I said.

Chibs smiled.

“Good. C’mon. Ya can ride shotgun with me. Quinn’s bitchin’ about a migraine, so I’ll drive. At least, halfway,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow.

“I have never heard that man bitch once,” I said.

“Some men turn to pussies when they’re in pain,” he said.

I laughed and dismounted, pulling my helmet off and setting it on the tank.

“I believe it. Do you, Prez?” I asked teasingly.

Chibs smiled and put an arm around me.

“Nah,” he said, “Throw dirt on the wound and keep movin’.”

I laughed. To an extent, I believed him, but I had a feeling it was a different story when he was sick.

“Let’s head out!” Chibs called to the guys.

They nodded and we quickly climbed into our designated vehicles. I climbed into the passenger side of Rane’s truck and Chibs into the driver’s seat, Rane behind him and Tig behind me.

“Why are you driving?” Tig asked Rane.

“Fuck you, man. I’m taking a nap,” he said.

Tig just rolled his eyes. Chibs smiled back at them.

“Be good. We got a long ride ahead,” he said.

Rat honked the van’s horn. Chibs honked back, and with that, we drove out. L.A. or bust.

***

Rane’s migraine did not even began to let up until late that night, leaving Chibs to drive the entire way to L.A. Chibs gave him some oxy, and after getting some water down him, he was finally able to relax, and fell asleep on our last leg of the trip.  
When we arrived in Los Angeles, it was almost 11:00 P.M. Rat followed behind with the van, having a little bit of trouble keeping up until the traffic thinned. I looked out at the hazy skyline and frowned. I was never a fan of the city. Any city really. Hell, I didn’t even like Huntington. However, seeing the hazy green glow of L.A. gave me that delightful throwback of old memories. Music and tattoos. Dying my hair lime green for two years. Mine and Z’s obsession with classic horror and our hair brained schemes (some illegal). Riding everywhere on my first bike, which was a Harley Street Glide I could barely handle for the first few months of riding. Getting drunk. Going to concerts. Just being kids.  
I felt Chibs reach over and take my hand. I snapped out of my reverie and looked up at him.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, as to not wake Rane or Tig.

I nodded and gave him a small smile.

“Yeah. Why?” I asked.

He shrugged one shoulder and reached up to tuck a small piece of hair behind my ear.

“You’ve looked a little down since that last exit,” he replied.

I looked down, absently rubbing the top of his thumb knuckle.

“Nah, I’m okay. Just thinking, you know?”

He nodded and focused on the highway. I reached a hand up.

“Take this next exit,” I said.

Chibs nodded and signaled to change lanes, checking the mirrors to make sure Rat was following.

“I know,” Chibs said slowly, getting distracted for a moment as we slid off of the exit and onto a side road, “Left lane?”

“Right lane. You got a ways, but stay in the right,” I replied.

Chibs nodded and changed lanes again.

“I know this place doesn’t hold great memories for ya,” he said softly.

I shrugged.

“Wasn’t all bad,” I replied.

Chibs glanced at me.

“Z never let anyone have a bad time,” I said quietly.

I looked up to see Chibs smile. 

“Is um, is the house we’re goin’ to the one…ya know?”

I nodded sadly. Chibs sighed.

“I’m sorry, love,” he murmured.

I shook my head.

“It’s okay. It’s not all bad. Besides, I get to show my boys a piece of my world,” I said.

Chibs smiled and squeezed my hand.

“Turn up here,” I said.

Chibs nodded and pulled his hand away to turn the steering wheel.

“You know, this city never felt like home to me,” I said.

Chibs raised an eyebrow at me.

“Really?” he asked.

I nodded.

“I never really cared for it. The Beach either. I just…I don’t know. Didn’t stick,” I replied.

He nodded understandingly.

“I know how that is. I hated Ireland. Scotland was fine, but Belfast? Meh,” he said.

I smiled.

“You like California better?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“I hate the sun,” he replied.

I laughed at that. I couldn’t blame him for that.

“What about Charmin’?” he asked.

I looked up at him.

“Does it feel more like home?” he asked.

I gave a half-hearted shrug.

“Kind of,” I replied, “But I think the house feels more like home than anything.”

Chibs looked to me.

“Really?” he asked.

I nodded, thinking back to yesterday morning when I put his gun back like he asked, exploring his most private living space for the first time. That moment kind of put everything in perspective for me. I felt like I belonged, and that made all of the difference for me.

“Yeah,” I said shyly.

Chibs eyes were warm, and he lifted my hand to kiss my knuckles. I smiled, feeling heat rush to my cheeks.

About ten minutes later, we turned down a curving road leading through some of the bigger homes near the richer part of town.

“This a dead end street. The house is at the end,” I said.

“‘Kay. Wake them,” he said, jabbing his thumb toward the backseat.

I turned around and shook Tig and Rane’s knees.

“We’re here, guys,” I said softly.

Rane snorted awake and Tig rubbed his eyes. I turned around and looked up the hill ahead. High up on the top sat my old place, and bittersweet nostalgia filled me. Chibs pulled up to the gate and stopped at the keypad.

“This still work?” he asked.

“It should. I was here two years ago, and it worked fine,” I replied.

Chibs rolled the window down.

“8109 and then press the pound sign,” I said.

Chibs reached out and typed in the passcode. It beeped and the wrought iron gates opened for us. Chibs looked impressed, and drove up the long driveway.

“Holy shit,” Tig gasped as we pulled in front of the house.

Chibs stopped and stared up at the place. The mansion was a three story masterpiece that somewhat resembled a European castle. Z’s fascination with vampires and horror brought his about, and he had been ecstatic when he were able to nab this place.

“This is it?” Chibs asked.

“This is like Barbie’s Dream House, baby girl,” Tig said in awe.

“Jesus Christ!” Chibs laughed.

Chibs parked in front of the front door. I turned to Rane.

“Chibs and I will go in and get the keys to open the garage. Take this and pull around the back to the door,” I said.

Rane nodded.

“Can do,” he replied.

Chibs unbuckled.

“Why are there lights on?” he asked.

I smiled.

“Have to make it look like it wasn’t abandoned,” I replied.

“You’re paying for electricity you don’t even use?” Tig asked, confused.

I looked back over my shoulder.

“I have friends in high places,” I replied with a wink.

Tig smiled and shook his head. Chibs tapped my arm.

“Come on,” he said.

I unbuckled and hopped out. Chibs and Rane switched off and I walked over to the van. Juice already had the window rolled down.

“Smell good in there?” I asked teasingly.

“It’s fine when we’re moving,” he replied.

I nodded.

“Why don’t you and Hap hop in the back of the truck? Rat, you stay until we get the cars,” I said.

Rat swallowed visibly and nodded.

“‘Kay. Ya mind if I puke in your bushes?” he asked.

I laughed. Juice and Happy climbed out of the van.

“Just don’t tell Tig or I’ll owe him ten bucks,” I replied.

Rat nodded quickly, then barreled out of the van.

“Pussy,” Happy said.

I smiled.

“Quinn’s gonna pull around to the back. Chibs and I are gonna go in,” I said.

Juice and Happy nodded and went to the truck. I walked up to the house. Chibs was waiting patiently on the porch. I pulled my keys out of my pocket and unlocked the door, opening it.

“Welcome,” I said.

Chibs smiled and gestured for me to go in first, leading the way. I walked in, and old and familiar sights and smells surrounded me. The high ceilings. Taupe walls. White crown moulding. Black and white tile floor that gave way to hardwood. I led Chibs through the foyer and into the massive living room. The decor was long gone, but some of the furniture remained, covered in sheets. I led Chibs through the living room, through the black marble kitchen, and into a narrow hallway that led to the back door. I walked up to the door and pressed a button on a remote mounted above the light switch. A massive building sat just beyond the door.

“Is that the garage?” Chibs asked.

I unlocked the door and opened it.

“It is,” I replied.

Chibs’ jaw dropped.

“That looks like a fuckin’ warehouse!”

I laughed and led him down the sidewalk to the garage, it’s wide metal door still rising. Quinn’s truck was parked to the side of the driveway. They boys stood by, peering curiously inside the garage. The inside, of course, was pitch black. I waved for them to follow.

“This room,” I began, reaching around on the side of the wall and found the light switches.

One by one, I switched them on, and the fluorescent lights above flickered to life, illuminating a dark gray walls, polished concrete floor, and 40 different cars.

“This room is Zero’s. This was his personal collection,” I said, feeling like a tour guide.

I turned to see all of my boys stare in absolute shock.

“Holy shit!” Chibs said, his eyes wide and his eyebrows shooting up his forehead.

“Goddamn, man!” Happy said.

The room was full of all sorts of cars. Two of Zero’s favorite BMW’s, Audis, Mercedes, two Ferraris, a variety of Dodge and Chevrolet vehicles, and his BMW bike.

“Holy shit, Callie! How loaded are you?” Juice asked.

I smiled.

“Just loaded enough. Z set me up for life,” I replied.

Chibs and Tig were staring at me, completely blown away. Tig looked ready to kill me, and I wasn’t sure about Chibs.

“So, this is the product, isn’t it?” Juice asked, “The VII pushed super cars.”

I smiled and nodded.

“Yup. Collected them, too,” I replied.

Chibs was still speechless.

“Super cars?” he asked.

I nodded and put my hands on my hips.

“Used to push cocaine. Grew out of that real quick,” I said.

Chibs smiled at me.

“These are off limits. You guys can use my collection,” I said.

“There’s more?” Happy asked.

“Come on,” I said.

The boys, now more refreshed from being on the road all day and excited about seeing the cars, eagerly tailed behind me. I led them to the back room and turned the lights on, illuminating all of my hellhounds. As soon as the lights were on, Tig let out a high-pitched cry and Happy bowed to me.

“Goddamn, girl! You put Jay Leno to shame!” Rane said.

“More like Danny Koker,” Chibs said.

The boys spread out, looking at the cars. Z had been more into luxury cars. I liked a bit more grunt. Besides that, he detested Lamborghini’s. I had two.

“You guys can pick whatever you want or can handle. There’s, of course, a Charger and a VW Bug over there, but I think you guys probably want something faster,” I said.

The guys looked around.

“Callie, there’s millions of dollars worth of cars in here!” Chibs said.

I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Why did you think me buying TM would tap me out? I can sell one of these and have even more than I had before,” I said.

“Jesus!” Tig breathed out, “Chibby, you’re Old Lady is fucking rich.”

Chibs smiled.

“Pick something out, guys,” I said.

“I don’t even think I could handle one,” Chibs said.

“What do you suggest, Cal?” Juice asked.

I walked around, inspecting the cars. I had a lot of shit to choose from. Camaro, the Corvette Zero hated, McLaren, Aventador, my most recent Lamborghini Veneno, a Ford Mustang Boss, a Bentley Supersport, Challenger, a Jaguar with a heavenly growl that I was tempted to take, and among the rest, my baby, the Bugatti Veyron.

“Juice, you can take that McLaren. It doesn’t bite. Happy, I think you can handle the Challenger, Tiggy, Aventador, and Chibs, you wanna try that Veneno?”

Chibs looked to the steel gray machine.

“I doubt I can even handle it, sweetheart,” he said.

I nodded.

“‘Kay. Then you and me in the Bugatti,” I said, “We can come back and get the rest when the heat dies if you want.”

Chibs nodded. I tossed Juice my keys.

“Go open the gun safe in Zero’s show room. Get the keys for these and go lock the house up,” I said.

Juice nodded and jogged back to the other room. Chibs suddenly attacked me with a hug, lifting me off of the floor.

“You,” he said between kisses, “Are. Fuckin’. Amazin’. I love. You.”

I smiled and put my arms around his neck.

“I love you, too,” I said, then kissed him back.

“I’m gonna puke,” Tig said.

Chibs put me down, then blew a kiss skyward.

“Thank ya, brother,” he said to Zero.

I smiled and hugged him.

“Okay. Here’s the keys,” Juice announced.

The boys surrounded him and took their respective keys.

“I’m excited. I’ve always wanted to drive one of these!” Juice said.

I took the Bugatti keys from him.

“May get to drive them more if we’re able to get back down here again,” I said.

Juice just grinned.

“‘Kay. We gotta get that body dumped,” Chibs said, “Quinn, go tell Rat to pack up. He has the map. We’ll follow him. You take the truck.”

Quinn nodded.

“Got it, Prez,” he replied, then turned around and left the garage.

Tig was inspecting the white Lambo I had assigned to him.

“What the hell, Callie? This is like a go-kart on steroids,” he said.

I laughed. Tig opened the door, jumping back when it swung up instead of out. He peered inside, then stared at me with his mouth open.

“How in the fucking hell am I supposed to fit in here? I’m a big guy,” he said.

I smiled.

“Zero was taller than you and he fit. There’s more room than meets the eye. You’ll fit,” I said.

Tig just shook his head. I jingled the keys in front of Chibs.

“Let’s go,” I said.

He obediently followed me to the matte black Bugatti.

“Damn. This is just as small,” he said.

“It’s not as cramped,” I said, opening the door.

Chibs climbed into passenger side and pulled the door closed. I place the key fob into it’s slot and pressed the start button. The Bugatti revved to life and began its startup noises. Chibs looked around.

“Very retro,” he said, pointing to the dash.

I smiled. He looked up and shuddered when he saw the ceiling.

“I can see right through it!” he exclaimed.

I laughed and buckled up.

“Yeah. I don’t like the glass roof, but hey. It’s still a good car. I like it, anyway,” I replied.

Chibs was pretty much speechless. I honked the horn, listening as three different honks called back. I put the car in gear, and the Bugatti moved for the first time in two years. I was thankful it even started at all.  
We pulled out onto the driveway and down to meet Rat. He was the first out of the gate, followed by Rane, and the roaring of four super cars that had not seen the road in years. Once the gate was closed, all hell unleashed.

***

Huntington Beach was around an hour away from L.A., which gave us all time to either think, or clear our heads. My mind was in overdrive. I was reeling for being able to play with this car again, and wasn’t thinking about much else. I hadn’t even noticed Chibs staring at me, and when I finally did, I wondered how long he had been watching me.  
I looked over to see his eyes watching my hands on the paddle shifters. When he saw my head turn, his eyes lifted up to meet mine.

“What is it, sweetheart?” I asked.

He shook his head a little, his face relaxing. I smiled at him.

“You wanna drive it back to Charming? It’s not hard,” I asked.

Chibs smiled.

“Maybe halfway. Let you sleep,” he replied.

I just smiled and turned onto the highway, following the boys.

“I was just thinkin’,” Chibs said.

“About what?”

I looked to his eyes trained on me.

“You,” he replied softly.

I smiled.

“Oh, really? Do that a lot?” I asked playfully.

Chibs smiled.

“All the time,” he said, “How fuckin’ grateful I am.”

I glanced at him.

“For me?” I asked.

He nodded and gestured to the car.

“Ya could have anythin’ in the world, and yet ya seem perfectly happy with our little white trash outfit,” he said.

I smiled.

“Filip, listen. I grew up like most of everybody. Middle class. Small school. A select few luxuries. Normal life. All I cared about were motorcycles, music, and my boys. That’s all any of us cared about, and why we formed the club in the first place. Now, we were no where near what traditional M/Cs were. No cuts, no beards, no rituals. It was just a bunch of dumb punk kids on bikes. Some were Harleys. Some weren’t. Zero had always wanted to do it more traditionally, but Shane had always said no. Anyway, we formed our empire through drugs because we were stupid. Then we got into the car business and our cash flow was always steady and always in gigantic volumes. But in that, we lost ourselves. Power, money, all of that bullshit. It ruined us in the end. I hated it. It wasn’t the club I had envisioned, and certainly not what Zero had in mind. It wasn’t a family. It was a dirty little mafia. This shit. The house, the cars, all of that. None of it meant jack-shit to me. These are just toys, and as much as I love them, I would trade it all for one family. When I discovered you guys, I found it. The amount of wealth or what people drive doesn’t matter. You guys took me in and gave me the world I had dreamed of for years. And no, it’s not glamorous, but I don’t care. This is the most loving, tight-knit, most amazing family I’ve ever been a part of. And you? You mean everything to me, and I think that regardless of us being together, or even the club, I’d still take a bullet for you. Every day.”

We stopped at a stop light, pulling up behind Tig.

“Come here,” he said.

I looked from the road and leaned over. Chibs kissed me deeply but quickly before hugging me. I hugged him with one arm, keeping my other on the wheel. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. I could feel it from his embrace and see it in his eyes.  
I smiled at him and touched his cheek before the light turned green.

“Let’s go start some trouble,” I said.

Chibs grinned.

“Aye,” he agreed.

Rat led us to an older neighborhood in Huntington Beach with massive houses. Chibs was on the phone with him, getting instructions on the best place to park. We would have to walk to the house, keep us all separated so nothing would look suspicious to on-lookers. However, the only people who would be out at 1:00 in the morning would be criminals. Hmm…

“Right,” Chibs said, slipping his phone back into his jacket pocket, “He says if we stay on this road, it’ll take us to a dead end. We can park there. There’s the house.”

I looked to see him pointing to a red brick two-story. I nodded and continued around a curving road, which led to an undeveloped part of the neighborhood. I shut the lights off, parked by a dumpster full of scrap lumber from construction crews, then we quickly climbed out and Chibs led me through the field behind the house, where we met with Rat.

“Rat and Hap, take the body. Juice and Cal, stand guard outside. Tig, Quinn and I will get in and find ourselves a murder weapon,” Chibs whispered.

We nodded. Juice and I took out guns out and ran into the vast backyard, jumping the chainlink fence and searching for dogs.

“Clear,” Juice whispered, “Duck into the trees. I’ll get the front.”

I nodded and ran to a group of trees near the back of the property. Chibs, Tig and Quinn ran into the backyard, the three of them jumping the fence and running up to the back porch. I looked up at the windows, checking for any signs of light or movement, and wondering if anyone was even home or not. Rat and Happy moved into the backyard with the body and ducked behind a storage shed. I watched as Chibs looked around before shooting the backdoor, the only sound emitted was the high-pitched noise of the silencer and the crumbling of glass and wood. I quickly remembered the silencer Tig had handed me earlier and I quickly retrieved it and applied it to my gun.  
The boys slipped into the house, and soon, Rat and Happy were called in. I sat patiently until my phone vibrated. I grabbed it and answered.

“Yeah?”

“Get in here, baby girl,” Tig whispered.

I closed my phone and shot out of the trees. Quinn met me at the door and escorted me through a dark dining room and into the kitchen where Rat and Happy were unwrapping the body.

“Shit!” Tig hissed, “Chibs.”

Rat passed me the plastic bag that Chibs had handed to him before we left Charming.

“Take those out,” he whispered.

I took the bag as quietly as I could and reached in to find two bags of human blood. So Chibs did go on a blood run.

“Brother, look,” Tig whispered.

I handed the blood back to Rat and stuffed the bag into my jacket pocket. Tig held up a couple of folders.

“Assault charges from our SAMDINO brothers,” he whispered.

Chibs took the folders and opened them, skimming through before angrily slapping them closed.

“Destroy them,” he whispered.

Tig nodded.

Out of nowhere, we heard Juice call out and a bullet went flying over our heads and straight into a wall. I ripped my gun out of my jacket and pointed in the direction of the shot.

“Who the hell are you people?” a strange voice yelled to us.

“Drop the gun!” Juice shouted.

The stranger appeared out of the dark hallway, and Juice shot around into the kitchen and pointed his gun. I immediately recognized the guy as Anthony Willingston from the news report back in December.

“Put the gun down,” Chibs ordered.

Anthony gritted his teeth and was about to pull the trigger when Tig stepped in front of Chibs and shot. Blood squirted in an arc and Anthony dropped dead. Juice and I looked back at Tig.

“He would have shot again,” was his excuse.

“Fuck it. Let’s just set this up and get outta here,” Chibs said, “Make it look like they got into it and killed each other.”

We nodded and I helped squirt the blood on the white tile floor.

“Make it look good,” Chibs said.

We strategically placed the guns and bodies, the patched members doing it like old pros. When they were satisfied, Chibs looked it over before nodding.

“Beautiful. Now, get those files and everyone get their asses back to Charmin’. Take the cars to TM,” he said.

The guys nodded and all of us quickly bailed, Tig grabbing the folders before we ran out the back door, across the backyard, and bolted back to our getaway vehicles.

“This is the part where these come in handy,” I said breathlessly as we shut ourselves inside the Bugatti, “Hope you like going fast, baby.”

Chibs growled.

“Love it!” he said.

I grinned and turned the car around.

“Hold on tight.”


	27. Little Wing

For two days, all was quiet, and for those 48 hours, the only thing we managed was eating and sleeping. The first day home, none of us were worth a damn and next day we all felt like shit. It took a while for our sleep schedules to reset, and by the third day, I still wasn’t completely with it.  
Chibs’ footfalls were like thunder in his house. What wasn’t carpet or tile was wood, and the entire home’s foundation was hollow. If you get up in the middle of the night, someone would hear. It was inevitable. When Chibs got up this morning, I could hear him pad down the hall and cough to clear his throat. It had only pulled me the slightest bit from my sleep before I was out again. However, his feet alerted me of his presence and I opened my eyes to see him slip into my room, softly knocking. I just closed my eyes and tried to play opossum.  
I heard the futon creak as he pressed a hand into the mattress. I felt warm lips press to my temple, accompanied by scratchy facial hair that, when he kissed softly, tickled to no end. I grunted and my eyes slit open, seeing a blurry figure prowling over me.

“Morning,” I croaked out.

Chibs smiled and brushed my fringe from my eyes.

“Mornin’,” he said softly, “You gonna sleep forever?”

I smiled.

“Just for the rest of the year,” I replied sleepily, my eyes falling closed again.

Chibs chuckled and I felt the mattress depress on the other side of me. I could sense him above me and felt his breath on my neck. I opened my eyes and he pressed his lips to my skin. I couldn’t suppress the contented sigh that rose from my throat. I put my arms around his wide shoulders. He trailed up to my cheek and raised his head.

“Breakfast’s ready if you’re hungry,” he said gently.

He kissed the corner of my eye, and if he didn’t stop I was going to be hungry for something more than pancakes.

“Okay. I’m up,” I said.

Chibs nuzzled his face against the side of my head. I held the back of his head and kissed his cheek. Chibs inhaled deeply, cupped my right cheek and kissed the hollow just under my ear on the left. Sweet Jesus!

“Filip, if you don’t stop, I won’t be getting up at all,” I said.

He laughed and raised his head to peck my lips.

“I know. Ya just smell nice,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow at him. Okay. He had either lost his mind, or was kissing ass. Chibs playing Mr. Romantic? No, this was not like him.

“Oh, is that so?” I quipped.

He smiled and nodded.

“Ya always smell nice,” he replied in a weak, almost shy voice.

Like leather and ash? I only wore deodorant and excluding my shampoo and body wash, I never wore much else. Occasionally, way back when I had the need to, I wore perfume. Any lotion I used was unscented purely because my body chemistry hated it. So, I had no idea what the hell he was talking about.

“Sometimes I can’t help myself,” he said softly, taking a piece of my hair and running it between his fingers.

I took a deep breath to calm myself, that same scent from the pillows in his room, mixed with the metallic sharpness from a breakfast cigarette, filled my nose. I knew exactly where he was coming from.

“And what the hell do you think I smell like?” I asked.

That sweet man’s cheeks turned beet red, and he quickly backed up, sitting on the edge of the mattress. I could only stare at him. I had never seen him get embarrassed. Hell, the only time his cheeks held any color was when he was winded! Or drunk. This, however, was hilarious.  
I sat up and playfully tapped at his bicep.

“Tell me,” I said.

He shook his head.

“No,” he said.

“Chibs!” I argued.

He violently shook his head and looked away. I pouted.

“Fine. I’ll get an answer out of you, though,” I said, giving up for now.

Chibs’ cheek color returned to normal and he gave me a crooked smile.

“If ya say so, Callie girl,” he said.

He reached up to mess up my hair before leaving me to myself. I huffed and shook my head. He couldn’t keep this from me for long.  
After pulling my ass out of bed and making a quick trip to the bathroom, I walked down the hall and shuffled into the living room, the news playing at a low volume on the TV.

“What are we gonna do with all of these, Callie?” Chibs called from the kitchen.

I looked from the TV to the kitchen. I exited the living room and walked inside the kitchen. Sunlight was shining in through the glass doors that led out to the porch, and about four million dollars worth of cars sat shining in the backyard.

“We could sell them. Give them to the guys,” I suggested.

Chibs, who was looking at the cars through the window over the sink, shot me a look.

“You’d sell those?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“Yeah. I’d like to keep the Challenger, though,” I said.

He stared at me in shock.

“But you love that Bugatti,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow at him.

“A Hummer gets better gas mileage,” I replied, “But I’ll sign it over to you, if you want it.”

He wrung out a dish towel over the basin and stared at me like I was speaking gibberish.

“I’ll figure out what to do. Probably just split the cash with you guys. I don’t need it,” I replied.

Chibs just smiled and put the damp towel over the faucet.

“…Two bodies, identified as Anthony Willingston and Gerard Lambert…”

Chibs and I exchanged shocked glances before running into the living room. Chibs grabbed the remote and turned the volume up.

“…and Lambert, who disappeared near Eureka, California just a week before. Both men were part of an organization called Project XMC, a group devoted to peaceful eradication of outlaw motorcycle and street gangs. The bodies were find this morning in Willingston’s home in Huntington Beach, California. Authorities suspect that there was a scuffle, and Willingston gunned Lambert down, Lambert being able to get one fatal shot in. Both men were founders of the Project. The organizations plans are currently on pause, and when asked, a representative of the group has hinted around a total shut down, but decisions will be made once the autopsy reports come in.”

I looked up at Chibs.

“They can’t trace anything, right?”

“Nah,” he replied.

He walked up behind me, slipped his arms around my waist, and buried his face against my cheek, planting a long, drawn out kiss against my cheekbone.

“We did it, darlin’,” he said.

I smiled as he rocked me and held the hands around my middle.

“No one messes with the Sons,” I said.

“Mhmm,” he hummed against my temple.

He unwound his arms and took my hand.

“Come on. Let’s eat,” he said.

I agreed and began to follow him out.

“…when two more Project XMC members were found in a ditch just a few minutes from McCarran International Airport in Las Vegas, Nevada. Witnesses identified the man seen fleeing from the scene as Joseph Christmas…”

I spun around suddenly when the familiar name hit my ears. Chibs turned as well. On the screen, the news was showing a mugshot of a very grumpy man with spiky blonde hair, and the roman numerals of the number seven tattooed on his neck.

“Holy shit, it’s Jojo!” I exclaimed.

I walked back into the living room.

“…Christmas was identified as a current member of Huntington Beach motorcycle club, The VII, and is currently in custody. Police have questioned the remaining members of the club, and President Shane Maddox claimed that the two men were following them up from Huntington Beach. Maddox says he and his club were threatened, and that Christmas’ actions were out of self-defense. Authorities have said that this case has also reopened another case on the death of Alan James Clarence, who last year, was found dead underneath the pier in Huntington Beach. The murder was suspected to be by The VII, however, the club are saying that is not the case, and suspect that Project XMC are involved. No word yet on the identity of the men who were murdered, but we will have more updates in our 6:00 segment. Now, on to weather…”

“Holy shit!” I blurted out.

“I think we hit two birds with one stone, love,” Chibs said, “If that little prick goes to prison, The VII will just be three guys and a M/C no more.”

I smiled and nodded in agreement.

“What a wonderful mess,” I commented.

Chibs laughed.

“C’mon.”

I followed him back into the kitchen and we made up our plates before sitting at the table.

“What were your plans today?” he asked as we tucked in to our food.

I shrugged.

“Not much. Venus has been begging me to go shopping with her. Go out for lunch. I told her I’d go with her today,” I replied.

Chibs nodded and made a stab at his food.

“I was gonna head over to Tig’s place anyway. Ya want a ride?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.

I smiled.

“Sure,” I replied.

A smiled tugged at Chibs’ mouth and he looked down again.

“What time do ya think you’ll be back?” he asked.

I widened my eyes.

“No telling. Why? You need me back for club business or something?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“No. No, I was just wonderin’,” he replied.

I swallowed some of my food and reached for my coffee.

“Probably be back by 3:00. If not, I’ll call you,” I replied.

Chibs nodded.

“Why? You got some diabolic plan up your sleeve?” I asked.

Chibs smiled and winked.

“Ya know it, darlin’,” he said.

I smiled and returned to my food. He was truly a man of mystery today, and by tonight, I was going to find out the answers I was looking for.

***

Venus sat down in the driver’s seat in a huff and tossed a large shoebox into the backseat.

“I am so sorry about that, hun. I misplaced that other boot. Alex must have kicked it under the bed, but I found it. So, now I’m ready,” she said.

I looked back at the box.

“You brought a second set of shoes?” I asked.

She was already wearing a pair of leather boots that came up her calf.

“No, honey,” she said, turning the car on and backing out of the driveway, “I have to return those. I wore those for about a week and they just came unraveled.”

I cringed.

“So, we’ll return those and head off on our adventure,” she finished.

I nodded and reached into my bag for my wallet to make sure I had everything—a paranoid tick of mine. When I pulled it out, I noticed that it was much heavier than usual. Concerned, I opened it and found a wad of cash inside with a rubber band around it. I pulled it out and quickly counted it. This certainly was not in here yesterday.

“Brought your spending money, baby?” she asked.

I flipped through the hundreds, counting out a whopping three grand. I gritted my teeth and shook my head.

“No, but Chibs made sure I had some, I guess. Shit!” I said.

Venus peered over.

“He looking out for you, sugar?” she asked.

I stuffed the wad back into my wallet. He had not been lying about paying me back.

“He’s hellbent on paying me back for buying TM back from Wendy and getting the rebuild started on the clubhouse. I told him he didn’t have to,” I explained.

“Baby, this is what they do. I know Alexander won’t let me lift a finger. He just gave me 12 grand for our trip today,” she said.

I stared at her in horror.

“You’re kidding,” I said.

She smiled and shook her head.

“Honey, they aren’t hurting that bad,” she said.

I put my bag back in the floorboard.

“$12,000, huh?” I asked.

Venus grinned.

“Honey, that man would bend over backwards for me,” she said.

I laughed. I bet…

***

Chibs and Tig walked inside the clubhouse for the first time in years. The place smelled of fresh wood. Insulation was currently being installed in the walls around the chapel, shelving was being put in the bar, and the President and VP of SAMCRO realized with absolute delight that the old warehouse turned clubhouse had nearly the same floorplan as before. With the floor cleaned, and the walls up to give the men more an idea of what the finished product would be, they felt like they were home again.

“That girl is getting the biggest fucking hug when she and Venus get back. She has outdone herself,” Tig said.

Chibs smiled as he looked up to see workmen in the rafters running wire.

“Ya think she’s earned her patch?” Chibs asked.

Tig looked back at his brother.

“Abso-fucking-lutely, man! As soon as her probation’s over, she has my vote. T.O., too,” he replied.

Chibs pushed his hands in his pockets.

“Aye. I think here in a couple of weeks, I want to call all of the patched members to the table. I’m thinkin’ about shortenin’ their probation period,” he said.

Tig’s eyes widened.

“Really?” he asked.

Chibs nodded. T.O. and Callie had shown they were ready. T.O.'s probation would be over within a few months, but Callie had until December. Chibs was not sure if the club could afford to wait that long, or if it was even fair. With her skills alone, if he had met her a long time ago, he would have made sure she was made a Redwood Original. The crew liked her. She got along with all of them, and no one could doubt she wasn’t right. It was just a matter of how it would look to other charters—a nagging thing he always had to take into account as the face of the Sons of Anarchy.

“I’m game,” Tig said.

Chibs nodded. The two wandered around, checking everything out and pointing to places where a memory had once been.

“Remember that time that Crow Eater passed out right there and we thought she was dead?” Tig asked.

“Remember that time I got hammered and had to puke in a toilet bowl full of shit because the plumbing was still bad?” Chibs asked.

Tig cringed.

“Okay, you win,” he said.

The walked down an almost finished hallway and Tig pointed to one of the apartments. He opened the door and they walked inside. This site was once Jax’s room. Chibs smiled to himself. This had been the favorite of all of the apartments in the clubhouse, for it was the only one with an en suite, and it was convenient for those nights when a girl was invited over. Thinking about it now made his skin crawl, and his thoughts flew back to Callie.

“Hey, Tiggy?” he asked.

Tig was examining the bathroom.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Are you and Venus gonna…I don’t know. Get married or anythin’? It’s legal here,” he said.

Tig shrugged.

“Not right now. We already have one of us getting hitched, anyway. Or at least, I told him to,” he replied.

Chibs backed into the window sill and sat on it, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Is Rat’s girl knocked up?” he asked.

Tig nodded.

“That stupid bastard,” Chibs said with smile.

Tig laughed.

“What about you and Callie?” he asked.

Chibs amusement faded, and Tig watched the look of contentment appear on his brother’s face.

“What do ya mean?” he asked.

“You know damn well what I mean! You and your lovesick ass,” Tig snapped.

“I am not!” Chibs argued.

Tig grinned and rolled his eyes.

“Well, whatever this is, I hope you stick with it, because I’m gonna tell you one thing, Chibby, that girl loves the hell out of you, and I haven’t seen you so relaxed and happy since…God, it’s been years.”

Chibs smiled.

“That’s kinda why I asked ya about Venus,” he said.

Tig walked up to Chibs and put his hand on his President’s shoulder.

“Brother, you keep what you love, and you love that shit unconditionally. Never, ever let it go. You understand me?”

Chibs nodded.

“You can make something absolutely beautiful out of this if you mean it. Whether you want to believe it or not, she's your soul mate,” Tig said.

Chibs nodded again. Tig leaned down and hugged his brother. Chibs smiled, receiving that push of reassurance he was looking for.

***

“What do you think, hun? Too much cleavage?” Venus asked as she strolled out of the dressing room.

I was sitting on a cushioned bench in a store way too frilly and bright for my taste, helping Venus pick out some new tops.  
I smiled at her.

“Classy as always,” I replied.

She smiled. Really, her bust size was a little much, but even the celebrities wore the plunging neck lines and still kept their dignity (whatever dignity they had). At least Venus had the tits to show for it.

“I just want to look more like a lady and less like one of distasteful career choices,” she said, modeling for herself in the three paneled mirror.

“You look nice. I’m not one for yellow, but it looks good on you,” I said, being completely honest.

“It makes me think of summer. I was just worried about the chest,” she said, “Thank-you, sugar.”

She walked back into the dressing room the change into another top.

“Are you planning on going back to work, by any chance? I know what happened probably turned you off,” I said.

“Honey, I think that part of my life is over. Alex says it’s probably time to retire from it, and I agree,” she replied.

I nodded to myself, as she couldn’t see me. I was happy for her.

“Besides,” she said, opening the door and walking out in this houndstooth number that hurt my eyes, “The club makes enough to support both of us. What about this one?”

“Put it back on the rack, Vee. It reminds me of Cruella De Vil,” I said.

Venus cringed.

“Good Lord, you’re right. Thank-you, baby,” she said, and retreated to the room.

She changed back into the white sweater and black leggings she had picked for the day and walked out, dumping the No Go’s into the rack provided.

“Alright. I’ll settle for these. Let’s go, Callie. I know you’re bored to tears,” she said.

I laughed and stood up to follow her long strides.

“It’s not the boredom that has me in tears. It’s all the fucking glitter,” I popped off.

Venus laughed.

“Oh, now I know that’s a lie. All women love a little glitter,” she said, bright white teeth gleaming as loud as the glitter in the tile floor.

“Yeah, in the paint on my bike,” I retorted.

Venus burst out laughing as we got in line. I wasn’t kidding…

After our trip for summer tops, we walked down the sidewalk in search of the shoe store to return the boots.

“How are you and Filip doing? You don’t talk about him much,” she said.

I looked up at her. I knew that I didn’t and it wasn’t that I didn’t want to. It was more like I didn’t want to annoy her with it.

“Fine,” I replied, not sure what else to say.

“Alex told me you two had a lot of fun at that rally,” she said suggestively.

I let out a humorless laugh. Tig has a big mouth.

“Sure, I like spending time with him,” I said.

“Oh, cut the bullshit, sweetheart. I know you are head over heels for that handsome Scottish devil,” she drawled.

I laughed.

“Now, tell me, sugar. How are you and our King doing?” she asked again.

I smiled shyly and looked down at the ground.

“We’re really good,” I replied.

Venus put an arm around my shoulders.

“Does he treat you well?” she asked.

I looked up at her.

“Of course! He would never treat me any differently,” I said.

“I didn’t think he would, baby. I was talking about the bedroom. How many times have you two romped between the sheets?”

I felt my jaw drop.

“Oh my God! Never!” I replied.

She shot me a look.

“Really?” she asked.

“Really. We’ve been taking things slow,” I replied.

We stopped in front of the shoe store.

“Wow! Well, you must be pretty special to him if he's being so respectful,” she said.

I watched her in surprise.

“Really?” I asked.

“Hun, I’ve known these boys for a while now, and when someone means something to Filip, he makes sure to take all of the right steps. And I know he must mean the world to you.”

I nodded. Venus cupped the side of my face.

“I’m happy for you, baby,” she said.

I smiled and thanked her. Venus gestured for me to follow her inside.

“I also know that when the magic finally happens, I’ve heard Filip has the stamina of a god,” she said.

I closed my eyes.

“Venus!” I whined.

I didn’t even want to know how she knew that.

“You have condoms on hand, right?” she asked.

I stared at her in horror.

“Hey, he most likely has some, but better to be safe than sorry,” she said.

I just laughed.

“When the time comes, I’ll practice safety. Promise,” I replied.

Venus grinned.

“‘Atta girl,” she said.

We walked up to the counter to talk to a cashier about the return and my mind wandered. I would be lying if I said I had not thought about it, and wondered what the hell kind of condoms to buy. Shit!

After one more stop, Venus had hit a little café in Charming that served all kinds of yuppie crap. Sandwiches, soups, salads, omnivore and vegan menus. Most of the people there were hoity-toity businessmen and women, some elderly people, and it seemed to be a popular hangout for Charming’s teenagers.  
Venus and I were seated on the porch. It was warm today, and not too windy. Great for lunch outside. After ordering, Venus let loose some pretty juicy news that surprised me.

“You want to know what Alexander asked me this morning?” she asked.

I took a sip of my pop and looked up at her. She leaned over the table, beaming from ear to ear.

“He asked me to wear his crow,” she said.

I could almost feel my eyes pop out.

“Are you serious?” I asked.

She smiled and nodded.

“No hand in marriage, but he wants me in his life. I said that I would love to,” she replied.

I smiled and took her hands.

“I’m really happy for you,” I said.

She smiled.

“Thank-you, honey.”

“Are you going to get the traditional one?” I asked curiously.

Venus shook her head.

“No. Alex and I agreed that it’s time for a change. I have a design in mind,” she said.

“What about location?” I asked.

“I think it would be beautiful on my back. Just a large piece with the wing’s coming down. Almost like angel wings, you know? Alexander gave me that idea,” she said.

I smiled.

“I think it’s perfect,” I replied.

Venus squeezed by hands.

“Do you want to come with me when I get it?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Yeah. Absolutely,” I replied.

She smiled and thanked me. The waitress brought our food out. Venus ordered a large salad and I had a chicken salad sandwich, which didn’t even sound good, but the picture in the menu was most definitely appealing, and the real thing did not disappoint.

“What about you, hun?” Venus asked.

I opened my bag of potato chips and shrugged as I dumped them out onto my plate.

“I don’t know. I mean, Chibs and I talked about it a little, but other than that…” I trailed off.

“I know he would love for you to wear it,” she said.

I smiled at that.

“I would,” I replied.

“Where would you have it done?” she asked.

I thought about it for a moment, thinking about what it would look like and what it would possible have on it or say. If Venus was getting hers on her back, then I kind of like the idea of having it on the chest. I would have liked the idea of having it on my back, but I couldn’t see it, and therefore, wouldn’t be able to enjoy it. The chest seemed like a good idea, and besides that, with the design I had in mind, I knew Chibs would like it.

***

Venus and I didn’t return by 3:00 as planned. After Tig had called to ask if Venus could pick up a couple of things, he had basically gushed over how the clubhouse was looking. It occurred to us that other than a select few items at Redwoody, the boys didn’t have any decor or furniture to speak of, and that was a problem. As soon as the call was over, Venus and I hit the furniture stores. We were getting our boys some new things. Light fixtures, two sets of black leather couches and matching chairs. A large shelving unit for the chapel, a litter of barstools with their favorite Harley Davidson logos on them, and a brand new pool table. All of which would soon be delivered to the clubhouse.  
In going nuts with our shopping, we lost track of time. I had called Chibs to let him know. He did not sound very disappointed, so I hoped that being late didn’t upset him. I wasn’t sure why it would, but I didn’t know what he had in mind for the rest of the day, either. Venus and I returned to Tig’s at 5:00. Two Harley’s were parked in the driveway, and Tig and Chibs were standing at the railing of the porch, having a smoke. When Venus killed the engine, I watched as they flicked their cigarettes into the flowerbed and began to walk off of the porch.

“Wonder what they’ve been up to today,” I said.

Venus chuckled. I got out of the car and tossed my bag over my shoulder. Tig happily hopped up to Venus, took her by the waist and kissed her like he hadn’t seen her in weeks. I smiled at them and turned to see Chibs in front of me.

“Hi, baby,” I said.

Chibs smiled and leaned down to kiss me, wrapping his arms around me.

“Hi, sweetheart. Ya have a good day?” he asked.

I smiled up at him.

“Yeah. How about you?” I asked.

He nodded.

“It was good. Ya find my little present I left?” he asked.

I took a deep breath, remembering the three grand, which was now down to just one.

“I did,” I said, absently fixing his collar that had no doubt been blown around while riding, “Thank-you.”

Chibs smiled and I cupped his jaw to coax his head down and kiss him again.

“What’d ya buy?” he asked.

I looked back at the car to see all of Venus’ shopping bags, some being carried over Tig’s shoulder with a hint of sass. I had bought a lot of stuff, but none of it could fit in a big plastic tote.

“I had to order my stuff,” I replied.

He smiled.

“Didn’t have the right color?” he asked.

I laughed.

“Something like that.”

Chibs chuckled.

“Where ya havin’ it all sent to?” he asked, his amusement fading as his eyebrows knitted together.

“TM,” I replied.

Which was the truth anyway.

He smiled.

“Good girl,” he said.

“Hey. I play it safe,” I replied.

He kissed my forehead and put an arm around me.

“I know,” he said.

Tig was strutting around with a couple of bags and pretending he was on a catwalk.

“He’s so gay,” Chibs said.

We said our goodbyes to Tig and Venus, and I thanked Venus for towing me around everywhere. Venus hugged me before Chibs kissed her cheek. Tig grasped my face and kissed my forehead before bringing me into a tight hug.

“Thank-you for giving us our clubhouse back, baby girl,” he said softly.

I smiled and gave him a squeeze. That must have been what they had been up to. Checking out their newly refurbished headquarters.

“Welcome,” I said.

I passed Tig off to Chibs, who hugged him before he resumed helping Venus with her bags. Chibs walked over to the bike, and before I knew it, a helmet was slapped on my head. I spun around and looked up through my eyebrows to see, not my full face helmet, but Chibs’ extra.

“Not the cereal bowl!” I pouted.

He grinned.

“Tig’s gonna hold on to your other one,” he said.

I looked back at the house, the door now closed.

“Why can’t I wear mine?” I asked.

Chibs shrugged.

“It’s a bit obstructive,” he replied

And truth be told, it probably didn’t feel too good against his back.

“True,” I said, “I just hate being hit in the face with bugs.”

Chibs smiled fondly.

“Aye. But you’ll be behind me,” he said suggestively.

I immediately took the hint, remembering what he had said. How he felt when I rode with him. This what he wanted, and I was more than willing to hold him for dear life and bury my face into his back to avoid swallowing a big June bug.  
Chibs put his own helmet on.

“Come on,” he said.

I obeyed, and held his shoulders as I climbed on behind him.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

Chibs smiled at me over his shoulder.

“No where special,” he replied.

I smiled and held his sides as he started the bike. I honestly didn’t care if we were going to eat, home, or somewhere else. All I wanted was to ride with him.

Chibs backed the bike out of the driveway and kicked off, driving us out of Tig’s neighborhood and soon, straight out of Charming.  
I looked around at my new surroundings. We were riding through some of the farmland that led into the forests surrounding the town, sandy nothing giving way to mountains and evergreens. I held Chibs’ waist tighter as we climbed the grade. We drove through the shade of the trees, most pine, but a lot of them bare. Sunlight filtered through the limbs and trunks, momentarily blinding me with a strobing effect, and I had to look the other way as we rounded a turn. The temperature in the shade was certainly cooler, and with the wind, it gave me a small cold chill. I wondered where the hell no where special was, or if this was just a joy ride. Either way, I ducked my head as we scooped down the hill and twisted back up. One or two cars passed us by, but with the vast forest and lowering sun, it felt like no one else existed. The road ripped away all sense of reality. We were just an entity gliding between yellow lines like a ghost on a designated track it could never escape from. A lone crow flew overhead, and I smiled. We were meant to be here.  
Chibs and I rode for a little while, climbing the mountain, sloping ground giving way to steep drops that would be fatal to anyone not paying attention. My ears popped several times, and just when I thought we couldn’t get any higher, we climbed some more. I was not afraid of heights by any means, but climbing like this gave me that sensation of airplane takeoff, and I had to duck my head to fight off a brief feeling of dizziness. It passed quickly, thankfully, and we had seemed to reach the peak by then. I could see the road leading up to the base of the mountain in the far distance, and had it not been for the trees and the road, I would have thought we were flying.  
Chibs slowed down and pulled off of the road and onto a gravel drive that led to a break in the trees. I straightened up and looked around, wondering why we had stopped. Chibs put his feet down and looked back at me.

“We’re here, darlin’,” he said.

I climbed down and he shut the engine off. I unbuckled my helmet and sat it on the rear seat. Chibs pushed the kickstand down, removed his helmet, and pushed his hair back on his head. He set his helmet on the tank and put his sunglasses around the front of his neck, just above the dollar tattoo poking out of his black v-neck. I always thought it was odd that he put them there, and not on top of his head.

“Where is here?” I asked.

Chibs stood and took my hand. He replied with a smile and led me out to an old fence. The fence gave way to a cliff, the area being an overlook anyone could stop at for a picture or a piss. Chibs walked up to the fence, took a cigarette from a pack, and lit it with his Zippo. He then gestured for me to follow with a tilt of his head. The fence was nothing more than two rails made out of pipe, and easy for anyone to squeeze between or climb over. Chibs lifted himself over it and sat on the top, facing the cliff’s edge. I followed suit and sat beside him, taking his cigarette as he offered it.

“I used to come up here all the time. Clear my head,” he said.

I nodded and blew smoke out of the corner of my mouth and passed the cigarette back.

“When all the leaves are gone, ya can see everythin’,” he continued, “I wanted to show ya how it looked when the sun sets.”

I looked from him to the vast land below the mountain. You could see everything from up there, including Charming, Lodi faintly on the horizon. However, it was the blood red sunset was what made it truly beautiful. No sunset in any Western movie could compare, and I felt like I was about to watch the credits to one roll in front of my eyes as a horse and a cowboy faded away towards the sun.

“Wow,” I breathed out.

Chibs flicked ash from the cigarette. We sat in silence for a few minutes, taking in our surroundings. Chibs seemed to have a knack for finding beautiful, peaceful places. Charming was not that pretty, and our own lives could get very ugly. Moments like this reset everything. It had this magical affect to clear the blackness—make us feel like what we did was a distant memory. I had learned a long time ago to never take moments of normalcy for granted, and I’m sure Chibs felt the same way.

“Honeysuckle,” Chibs said randomly.

He flicked the cigarette out. I looked up at him, confused.

“What?” I asked.

He looked to me and smiled warmly, his cheeks turning pink.

“That’s what ya smell like to me,” he said.

This morning’s conversation rushed back, and it finally dawned on me what he was talking about.

“Really?” I asked.

He nodded. I looked away for a moment in thought, trying to think of anything that would make me smell like that.

“Must be that yellow body wash. Probably has some honeysuckle in it,” I said.

Chibs nudged me lightly.

“Whatever it is, never stop using it,” he said.

I smiled, feeling my cheeks heat up. I reached up and he quickly closed the space between us, pressing his lips firmly against mine.

“This is also Charming’s make-out point,” he admitted.

“Oh, so now the truth comes out!” I laughed.

Chibs chuckled and kissed me again. So this is why he wanted me back by 3:00.

“This your version of a romantic date?” I asked teasingly.

He stroked my cheek and smiled warmly.

“Kinda,” he replied.

His lips returned to mine and I smiled into it.

I’ll take it.


	28. Family

Spring time in Northern Cali brought rain showers and a fever that could be felt throughout Charming. Seasonal shops were reopening, florists and greenhouses were preparing for the warmer seasons, and the warmth that came with the refreshing month of March had everyone outside. Kids playing, people riding their bikes, almost everyone tending to their gardens. Charming was starting to come back to life, and big changes were happening.  
I signed TM over to Chibs not long after our Cash for Cadavers scheme was hashed out. Project XMC fell apart, much to the relief of every M/C in California, and Jojo was incarcerated for the murder of two XMC members, meaning The VII was no more until they could either get Jojo back, or raise a Prospect successfully. With their track record, it wasn’t going to happen. Their only hope was a patch over, and with their allies either wounded, or unable to afford it, they were out of luck unless they inked in their Old Ladies, and they had lost the only one willing to ever join them. My loyalties laid with the Sons.  
Chibs decided he had had enough with the way TM looked. Without their shiny new clubhouse, set to open on March 17th, St. Patrick’s Day, he saw to it that the garage get a face lift. I agreed that it was outdated and could a use a new coat of paint, but he wanted to get shit done and revitalized the business Clay Morrow had started. He had the building painted white and black, and a brand new sign, the letters in silver and navy blue to match the clubhouse. There was some debate over whether to change the name, but the town knew the place as Teller-Morrow Automotive, so Chibs decided to shorten it to TM Automotive. Still Teller-Morrow, but the boys never had to look at the names again.  
With the facelift, my decision to sell some of my cars was squashed, as selling a the Bugatti alone, a car that had once been just VII stock product, was not a good idea. It would raise some heads. So, Happy gladly took the Bugatti, McLaren, and the Lambo off of my hands. They were fast cars he knew the club would need, and he had a place to store them and promised to take care of them. So, I donated them to the club, and anyone with a need to use them had to go through Chibs to get the keys. The Challenger remained at Chibs’ place, sitting under the carport with the Dyna, Street Glide, and the Hayabusa. It was the car assigned to the tedious task of grocery shopping. Besides that, I think Chibs ended up falling in love with it.  
St. Paddy’s day, the day of drinking and Chibs bitching about all things Irish, came with such excitement that none of the boys could hardly stand it. T.O., Rat, Rane, Montez and I didn’t quite understand why the rest of our brothers were chomping at the bit for the clock to strike 8:00 and for me and Venus to open the clubhouse and let the boys explore their new headquarters and start what would be the biggest SAMCRO party of, most likely, the history of SAMCRO. Things had been quiet with the club, with only an end or two to tie with the Irish, and a minor scuffle in helping the Mayans, but things this month had been good, and the club was functioning as a club again. It made buying the place worth it as Venus, Lyla and I did a walk-through, making sure everything was perfect, and had let a couple of Crow Eaters in to help set up the food and work the bar. It was going to be a long night of heavy drinking and no doubt, bodies, food, cum and puke all over the floor the next morning. As a Prospect, it was my job to clean that shit up. However, as I had bought the damn place and was currently in a committed relationship with the club Prez, I got a free pass. RJ, who had been Prospected in just a week before, would have the lovely job of janitor bestowed upon him. I would pray for him.

“Callie, this place looks amazing. It’s almost exactly like how it used to be,” Lyla said.

I looked over my shoulder at her.

“Thanks. You think the guys will like it?” I asked.

“Honey, they’re going to bowing to you and kissing your feet,” Venus popped off.

I turned to the girls.

“Thanks for helping me get everything finished and decorating it,” I said.

Lyla smiled.

“No problem,” she said.

“Sugar, it was our pleasure,” Venus said, “Now, let’s go get the boys in here.”

I nodded.

“I’ll go get them,” Lyla said.

Venus and I nodded and she ushered me over to the pool table.

“Go stand on it,” she said.

I nodded and jogged across the room, parking my ass on the edge of the table and twisting around to stand. Lyla welcomed the party in, and the boys entered first, looking around in awe. They were followed by the rest of the party, enough people to create a swarm. Chibs and Tig shot over to the table.

“What in the hell are ya doin’ up there?” Chibs asked, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles.

“Fixing to preach to the congregation,” I replied.

Chibs smiled up at me. Tig sat on the edge of the table and ran his fingers over the wood.

“This is gorgeous, baby girl,” he said.

“Thank-you,” I replied.

“Want me to get their attention, love?” Chibs asked.

I nodded. Chibs whistled loud enough for my ears to ring, and a jumped from the shrillness.

“EH! LISTEN UP!” he called.

Everyone turned to me, and stage-fright hit me like a freight train. Shit.

“Okay, guys,” I said, “This project has been a long time coming. I know some of the crew never got to see the original, but I hope that this makes up for it.”

Some of the crowd, including Happy, cheered their agreement.

“I know this clubhouse means the world to my brothers, and I wanted to give back after they took me in and saved my life. Tig and Venus graciously took me under their roof, Chibs paid for the repairs for my bike out of sheer generosity. He barely knew me at the time. All of you have accepted me as one of your own, and I wanted to show my appreciation with buying back the place that means so much to all of you. I love all of my brothers and I’ve grown to love my sisters. The bullshit is in the rearview, and today, I give you guys a new start.”

Venus, who was standing by the chapel doors, cleared her throat. The room turned their attention to her.

“Welcome back,” she said, and opened the door.

Tig hopped down and took my hand. Chibs took the other and helped me down from the pool table. Chibs led the way inside the chapel. Happy, Juice, Rane and Montez walked in and around to their side of the table, which Venus and I had taken in to have refinished, and now shined like new. Tig led Rat, T.O. and I in and we took our spots on our side of the table. Chibs walked inside, and I suddenly had goosebumps. Happy was looking down at the table, tears brimming his eyes. Chibs stopped at his chair and for a moment, he held onto the back of his chair and wouldn’t meet our eyes. Tig reached into his cut pocket and handed the gavel to him. Chibs looked up at his VP and bit his bottom lip. Tig nodded and Chibs took it. He weighed it in his hands. He sniffed and looked up at the light above, tears in his eyes.

“This club has been apart of my life for nearly 30 years,” he said, “It’s been the only family I’ve truly loved. I love every single one of ya. The old days of war and bloodshed? They’re over. This day marks a new era for SAMCRO, and I’m so grateful to have all of ya at my side.”

I had to look away for a moment as he choked on his words.

“So before I lose my shit,” he continued, “Callie, come here, sweetheart.”

I moved from my spot and walked around to the head of the table, Tig patting my back as I walked by him. Chibs stood to the side, smiling as a lone tear made it about an inch down his face. He held an arm out and I walked into him. He put his arm around my waist, holding me firmly against him.

“I want to welcome my family back to where we belong,” he said.

The boys nodded. Venus slipped in, standing at Tig’s side, and Brooke at Rat’s.

“Let’s start it off right,” Chibs said, then slammed the gavel down, “And let’s party!”

Everyone shouted out, and Chibs pulled me into a deep kiss before hugging me tightly. The rest of the table surrounded us in a giant group hug, and you could feel the love between everyone. Chibs sniffed against my hair, and I reached up to wipe the tears from his cheeks before the boys could say.

“I love you, baby,” I whispered.

“I love you, too, love,” he said, then kissed my cheek.

“Alright, first one I see not in green gets pinched on the ass!” Tig declared.

Juice laughed.

“Rat’s not wearing green!” he exclaimed.

Rat’s eyes widened. Tig grinned, and the poor kid bolted. Chibs smiled down at me.

“Party’s on.”

I smiled and took his hand, leading him out of the chapel and into the sea of noise, booze and food, and cigarettes and weed. Not glamorous at all, but it was home.

***

Music vibrated outside under the overhang, along with the rowdy cheers of half-drunken partiers as we circled the club’s wrestling ring, watching Happy and Tig beat the shit out of each other for old times’ sake.

“Happy may be able to beat his ass this time,” Juice said over the noise.

We were standing at the edge of the ring, myself between Juice and Chibs. I had never seen Tig move so fast in my life, but Happy was just as fast, if not faster. Tig struck like a pissed cat, but Happy’s eyes were quick, and it was neck and neck. My money, if I was betting, was on Tig.  
Happy swung and hooked Tig right in the jaw. Juice and I cringed.

“Easy! Easy!” Chibs shouted to them, “This is a friendly match, remember? Don’t kill each other!”

Tig snarled and went after Happy.

“Get him, Tiggy!” I shouted.

Tig’s bite back was hard and fierce, and he knocked Happy over into a corner. I could see blood on the Sergeant at Arms’ eyebrow.

“‘Kay, get in there and break ‘em up, Juicey,” Chibs said.

Juice nodded and climbed over to break the two up. For any stranger watching, they would have had the impression that the two hated each other, but when Happy attacked Tig with not a punch, but a hug, it was a crazy change from the 15 minutes of wanting to kill each other.

“I need a beer. Callie, let’s go inside,” Chibs said.

I agreed, and was fixing to hop down when Chibs picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.

“Chibs!” I screamed out.

“Easy, darlin’, easy!” he said playfully.

I just had to submit. He had had a beer already, and I’m sure was feeling a lit more playful.  
He carried me inside the clubhouse and to the bar, where he then swung me around and into his lap like he had done it a thousand times before. He probably had.

“What can I get you guys?” the Crow Eater behind the bar asked.

I put my arm around Chibs’ back to keep myself balanced.

“Beer,” Chibs replied, “Any beer. Doesn’t matter.”

The Crow Eater nodded and looked to me.

“What about you, sweetheart?” she asked.

“Fireball,” I replied.

She nodded and went after our drinks. Chibs looked at me in surprise.

“Jesus!” he exclaimed.

I laughed and patted his chest.

“I’m feeling adventurous,” I said.

Chibs grinned and kissed me hard. The Crow Eater passed Chibs his beer and me my shot. Across the room, Tig whistled.

“Hey! Everybody listen up!” he shouted.

Chibs and I looked up to see Tig standing on one of the brand new coffee tables.

“We have a couple of announcements before we continue with this party,” he said, “Rat?”

The room looked to Rat and Brooke on the couch. They stood, Rat keeping a loving arm around Brooke, who was sporting the very slightest evidence of a baby bump.

“We’re engaged!” Rat said.

The room erupted and Rat kissed his girlfriend. Tig cleared his throat.

“I would also like to welcome the newest lioness to the pride,” he said, then held his hand out for Venus to take.

She climbed on the table, removed the black leather cropped jacket from her shoulders, which Tig kindly took, and she spun around and pulled the shoulders of her gray, backless blouse down her arms, revealing a large back piece that ran from her shoulders to her waistline. The large crow did indeed have wings resembling those of angels, and in it’s talons held a scythe, and on the blade, a butterfly. I assumed the two held more meaning between her and her Old Man, but regardless, it was still beautiful. The crowd erupted. I had not been able to go with Venus to get her tattoo, as we were on a run at the time, but I was glad she finally got it.  
Chibs nuzzled his face into my neck. I cradled the back of his head, letting my fingers get lost in his hair.

“I can honestly say I never saw that one comin’,” he said.

I smiled and put my arm around his shoulders.

“Never thought that the Belle Who Does Not Tell would be the newest matriarch of the tribe?” I asked.

Chibs glanced back at her.

“Not in a million years,” he said.

I laid my cheek on top of his head.

“Brooke’s next in line for a crow,” I said.

Chibs tilted his head so I would lift mine and he looked up at me. He didn’t say anything, but gave me a crooked, slightly buzzed smile. I tucked some of his hair behind his ear, took his goatee between my fingers and his mouth as mine. Chibs let out a soft moan and cupped my jaw. I put both of my arms around him and hugged him to me. Over his shoulder, I saw Venus mingling with some of the Crow Eaters, but I could no longer spot Tig. In fact, the only Son in the room, other than the one I was sitting on, was Rat, who was cuddling his fiancé on one of the couches.

“Where are the boys?” I asked.

Chibs turned to look around as I pulled away.

“Dunno,” he said, sounding like he really didn’t give a shit.

He looked back at me and smiled.

“Come on,” he said, patting my thigh, “Let’s get out of this noise.”

I slid down, his hand holding mine as he took one last swig of his beer.

“Where to?” I asked.

He smiled that smile I knew meant trouble, and led me through the lounge and to the hall.

“The roof,” he replied.

I smiled and tighten my hand around his.

“You certainly like heights,” I said.

Chibs looked at me worriedly.

“Are ya scared of heights? ‘Cause if ya are—“

“No, no, no! I’m cool with heights. I just noticed that you climb everything,” I said.

Trees, the porch railing at home, stairs, cars. Anything really.

Chibs grinned.

“When I was a lad, ya couldn’t keep me outta the trees,” he said.

I smiled at that. He led me to a steep ladder built in the wall that led up to the roof. He gestured to the steps.

“Ladies first,” he said.

I smirked.

“Why? So you can look at my butt all the way up?” I asked teasingly.

Chibs eyes darkened and he grinned.

“I would like to,” he replied.

I smacked his arm, causing him to laugh.

“Why don’t you go first? Maybe I want to check out your ass?”

Chibs’ smile was rapturous.

“If ya don’t go, I’ll throw ya over my shoulder and carry ya up there myself,” he said.

And I didn’t doubt that, but part of me didn’t trust him. He was up to something.

I innocently clasped my hands together in front of me and twisted my foot in the ground.

“Please?” I asked.

That man almost visibly melted into goo. His shoulders sagged and he smiled as he shook his head. He knew I had him, but he was also not one to say no.

“If ya insist, darlin’,” he gave in.

I grinned. Besides not trusting him, I could never neglect a chance to lock my eyes on his backside. Let it be know that along with his devilish smile, handsome face, and a variety of other assets I personally admired, the Prez had one of the best asses in the club. Granted, I was not the type of person who judged upon backside, but damn!  
Chibs gripped the rungs and cast a glance over his shoulder, now making sure I was watching his ass. He climbed up the wall, and I waited until he had the door open before I took my turn to hoist myself up. Chibs made it to the roof just as I was crossing the middle, and took my hand to help me up as I emerged at the top. I stepped aside so Chibs could close the door. We then walked between the ridge at the edge of the roof and a raised area that gave to the curve of the new roof, which Chibs had planned to have painted with the Reaper, as it had used to be.  
We sat down and Chibs took my hand, lacing my fingers with his.

“I don’t think I could ever repay ya for what you’ve done for us. Givin’ us our clubhouse back. Buying all new furniture and everythin’,” he said.

I smirked.

“So then ten grand I’ve accumulated doesn’t mean anything?” I asked jokingly.

He narrowed his eyes at me.

“Ya know what I mean, ya cheeky shite,” he retorted.

I laughed and he touched his forehead to mine.

“I mean, Callie,” he said, his voice now softer.

“I told you. I owed you. You don’t owe me shit. We’re even,” I said.

He smiled and gave me a soft kiss. He moved back a little to create space between our heads and took my hands in his, rubbing his thumbs against the backs of my hands.

“I think of all of us as crows, sometimes. Regardless of the play on the name and all,” he said, keeping his eyes trained on my hands, “But I think of you more as a phoenix.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. Say what?

“A phoenix?” I asked, “How poetic, Chibs.”

“Would ya just hear me out? Please?” he begged.

I smiled softly. He didn’t usually get this irritated with me unless he meant what he was saying, so I would listen.  
“I’m done, sweetheart. I’m listening,” I said.

He closed his hands around mine and locked his eyes on mine, smiling.

“I thought about this a lot back at the rally,” he began, “And I know not all of us go by a nickname. Some of us just go by our last names. I thought it was time for ya to have your club nickname. The guys agree. Ya raised our home from ash, and brought me out of a very dark place. You are SAMCRO’s Phoenix, as sickeningly sweet as that sounds.”

I laughed at that.

“Phoenix?” I asked.

He shrugged.

“It’d just be code, but yeah,” he replied.

I smiled. The boys called me everything under the sun. Callie, Cal, Callie girl, baby, baby girl, sweetheart, darling, honey, kid, cheeky little shite, T.O. had started calling me Little Crow, and everyone in a teasing, but loving manner had spat out “The Prez’s Old Lady.” I didn’t think I deserved the nickname, but by the loving look in Chibs’ eyes, he wanted me to take it.

“I like it,” I said.

Chibs smiled and pressed his lips to mine in a lazy, short kiss.

“I also have somethin’ else I need…wanted to tell ya,” he said, looking away from me.

I tilted my head to the side.

“What?” I asked.

Chibs looked down in thought, chewing his tongue. I furrowed my eyebrows.

“Is something wrong?” I asked, concerned.

His eyes met mine.

“No! No, everythin’s fine. It’s just a hard question to word,” he replied.

I left my eyes on him and reassuringly squeezed his hand. I waited patiently, giving him all the time required to figure out what he was going to say.

“Ya mean everythin’ to me, Callie. Ya have been at my side every time I needed ya, even when I felt too fuckin’ stubborn to take help from anyone. I love you…with all of my heart. I want ya in my life for the long haul. This isn’t a marriage proposal or nothin’ like that. It’s just a,” Chibs smiled, “a non-hypothetical question.”

My chest was on fire and I was scared to breathe.

“Will ya wear my crow? Be my Old Lady, officially?” he asked.

My eyes went out of focus for a brief moment and my jaw dropped. Nothing was real for a second. I had remembered our conversation and hypothetical questions, and how I had said I would. I daydreamed about it all the time, but I never expected him to ask me. Not any time soon, anyway. I definitely didn’t expect him to open his heart like this, and I adored him for it.

“Absolutely, Filip.”

His grin was that of relief and deep love. He cupped my cheeks and pressed his lips tenderly to mine. I smiled and let my fingers work their way up his neck and through his hair. Chibs held me tightly against him and touched his forehead to mine, pressing one more kiss to the corner of my mouth.

“I love you,” he said lowly, gruffly.

I stroked his cheeks.

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” I whispered.

Chibs took my hands and kissed my knuckles.

“I have somethin’ for ya,” he said, smiling.

I raised an eyebrow. I was wondering when the trouble would come.

Chibs stood up and reached for something behind an air vent. He picked up a black tote bag and walked back over to me. I stared at him in shock. He had planned all of this! He stood before me and smiled.

“Open it,” he said, handing the bag to me.

Nervously, I peered inside to see nothing, as it was too dark. I reached and felt several flat objects contained in plastic bags. I grasped one of them and pulled it out. When I realized what it was, I almost threw it back in. They were a set of patches and flashes, in color, including the Redwood Original flashes, the Sons of Anarchy and California rockers, among others that I could not see, for they had flipped over in the bag.

“Club took a vote this mornin’. We agreed that you and T.O. had outdone yourselves, and we shortened your probation periods. You two are officially Redwood Original,” he said.

I stared up at him, speechless.

“Are you serious?” I asked.

He smiled and nodded.

“Second bag is the blackouts, and I believe there’s something else in there,” he said.

I stood, fished out the second bag, and my hand found a box at the bottom. I set the bag aside and Chibs offered to hold the patches. I examined the black box before opening it to find a dark pewter ring, “SAMCRO” framed in a fleur di lis and curving floral flourishes.

“We can have it resized, but I thought ya should get a club ring. Had that since we Prospect ya,” he said.

I took the ring out of the foam.

“It should fit the index finger,” he said.

I tucked the box under my arm and slid the ring onto my right index finger. I was not a ring wearer, but this was too meaningful and far too beautiful to not wear.

“You’ve had this that long?” I asked, my voice weak.

He smiled and nodded.

“How does it fit? I had to guess your ring size,” he said.

I twisted the ring around and moved it up and down without an issue.

“It’s perfect,” I said.

Because as always, he was spot on.

I looked up at him and had to bite my lip to keep it from shaking.

“Thank-you,” I whispered.

Chibs pulled me into a hug.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” he said softly.

Tears welled up in my eyes and I buried my face in the shoulder of his cut. He kissed my temple.

“If ya want to go down to the garage,” he said.

I pulled back and looked up at him, slightly confused. He stood aside and gestured to the garage. I looked to see the doors open and the lights on inside, all of the boys standing in a semi-circle.

“Your brothers are waitin’ for ya. Happy will give ya your ink,” he said.

I covered my mouth and grabbed his arm. Tears flooded over before I could stop them, and I buried my face in the sleeve of his leather jacket.

“Aw, darlin’,” he said softly, and scooped me up into a hug.

I held him for dear life and felt his lips press against my hairline.

“I’m sure none of you pussed out like this,” I said into his collarbone.

“Rat did. It’s okay,” he replied.

I laughed and little and lightly squeezed him. He pulled back and wiped my cheeks, smiling affectionately.

“Come on,” he whispered.

I nodded and followed him with my new things down into the clubhouse and out to the garage. Inside, the boys smiled at me, and Juice and Rat shot over to me and hugged me, making me lose whatever dam I had created on the way over. I looked over Juice’s shoulder and smiled at my brothers. However, one was missing.

“Where’s Tig?” I asked.

“He’ll be back,” Chibs said.

“Come here, kid,” Happy said, “Check this design out and see if you like it.”

I pulled away from Juice and Rat and walked over to Happy’s little tattoo station setup.

“I didn’t know you could tattoo,” I said.

Happy smiled.

“I’ve been tattooing for years,” he said.

“And he’s good,” T.O. said, “I got mine this morning.”

I looked to see him pull his sleeve up and reveal a brightly colored Reaper on his forearm. It looked exactly like the patch. Happy handed me a piece of paper and my jaw dropped. On it was the scythe rifle the Reaper carried, covered in roses with a skull, and beside it, a wrapping banner that read “Sons Of Anarchy.” It was gorgeous.

“Who designed this?” I asked.

“All of us. A lot of it was Tig, and the rest of it was our Prez, but we all had some input,” Happy explained.

I smiled. There was something I would have done to it, though.

“Can I tweak it?” I asked.

“You’re more than welcome to,” Happy replied.

I took the paper and pointed to the curve in the bottom banner.

“Can the rifle go through this curve right here?” I asked.

Happy smiled.

“Oh yes it can. In fact, I like that idea better,” he replied.

I smiled and handed the paper back.

“Where do you want it?” he asked.

I knew that answer immediately.

“My back. All of it,” I replied.

Happy’s eyes widened.

“Absolutely,” he said, then handed me an old throw blanket, “To cover you.”

I thanked him and he had me sit in a chair backwards. I draped the blanket over the back of the chair and looked up at Chibs.

“You better hold my hand,” I said to him.

Chibs smiled and went to grab a chair, which he placed in front of me and sat in it backwards. I unhooked my bra under my shirt and lifted the back of my shirt over my head. With my shirt and the blanket, the boys couldn’t see anything. Happy sat down on a stool on wheels and wiped my back down. I cringed at the coldness. Chibs laughed at me.

“That’s not even the needle,” he laughed.

Happy moved to his tray and picked up some black ink.

“You want the whole thing black and gray?” he asked.

“Yeah. But the roses should be red,” I replied.

“Gotcha,” he said with a nod.

The needle started for a split second.

“You ready?” he asked.

I looked back at him in surprise.

“You’re free-handing it?” I asked.

“Sweetheart, he’ll do a beautiful job. Just trust him,” Chibs said.

I nodded.

“Take it easy on me, Hap,” I said.

“Absolutely.”

The buzzing of the gun filled the garage, and Happy began the line art. I knew this would take hours, if not several sessions, but I was ready.

Or so I thought…

Three hours and several breaks later, the reopening party still going strong and Chibs sitting patiently in front of me, we decided to try and finish. I knew better than to do that, and my body was screaming for relief, but Happy had said he was nearing completion. I held onto Chibs’ hand tightly as Happy drove the needle across my spine, hitting the tender center of my back over and over again. He was trying to hurry, even though I told him not to. I didn’t want any fuck-ups. However, I was running on fumes, and I feared I would hurt Chibs’ hand, and he was hard to injure. Tears were in my eyes, no matter how hard I tried to show Chibs I he had not patched in a pussy, but it was killing me.

“Probably need to get her blood sugar back up, Prez,” I heard Happy say.

“Aye, Juicey?”

I turned my head to see Juice sitting nearby. He and Rat never left for the entire three hours.

“On it,” he replied.

I sniffed, my nose congested from crying. I looked up from Chibs wrist, which I had buried my forehead in.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded, then put my head back down.

“It’ll be worth it, Callie. Promise,” Happy reassured me.

Juice returned with one of the brownies that Lyla had made and a Coke. I thanked him and nibbled on the brownie while Chibs held my pop. I couldn’t really focus as Happy worked on the highlights. My pain tolerance was gone, and I handed the brownie back. Chibs passed the food back to Juice.

“Just hang on to it,” I heard him say.

Chibs took my hands and stroked the back of my head, petting me and trying to soothe the hysterical crying.

“Goddammit,” I said.

Chibs kissed my forehead.

“You’re almost done. Don’t think about it. Focus on my voice, ‘kay?”

I nodded.

“As soon as it’s over, you’ll get the last of your presents,” he said.

I looked up.

“There’s more?” I asked.

Chibs smiled.

“From Tig,” he replied.

I nodded.

“One, two,” Happy counted, stabbing lines into my lower back, “Three, four, five, and six. All done.”

I sniffed and relaxed. Juice handed me a tissue and I blew my nose.

“Stand up nice and slow and come look,” Happy said.

I held the blanket to my chest and stood up like he said. Chibs held my arm as I stood on unsteady legs. I walked with him and Happy to a full length mirror tucked away in the corner of the garage and turned around. When I saw the fresh tattooed, inked in as perfectly as it was on the paper, I gasped.

“Happy, holy shit! That’s beautiful,” I said, admiring the pop of red the roses gave to the piece.

I gently pulled my shirt down, letting the blanket drop and not even bothering to fasten my bra back, and hugged Happy.

“Thank-you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said.

“Looks good, baby girl.”

I jumped and spun around to see Tig in the door.

“Tig!” I exclaimed, and power-walked to him and was pulled into a hug.

“Look. I got something for you,” he said.

I pulled back and Tig reached into his cut pocket, producing a gold pin of the SAMCRO Reaper.

“This is an old one of mine. I thought you should have it. Put it on your cut,” he said.

Rane entered the room, a brand new leather cut on a hanger.

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

He smiled and handed it to me.

“For you, little sis,” he said.

I smiled and thanked him with what voice I had left.

“One more thing,” Tig said.

He put an arm around me, trying to avoid putting any pressure on my back, and led me out to where the flatbed had been moved. On the back were a couple of boxes and motorcycle chassis, half-finished.

“Remember my friend from the rally? His step-daughter wrecked this and they tried to fix it, but they ran out of money, so I took it off his hands. Thought our newest Full Patch needed a Harley of her own. It’s, I think he said, an ’09 Sportster. Perfect fit for you.”

I couldn’t find any words. There were no words. No words at all.

“Almost all of the parts at here. We can work on it in our spare time,” he finished.

I swallowed and looked up at him.

“Thank-you,” I whispered.

Tig took my face in his hands and kissed my forehead.

“You’re welcome, baby girl,” he said.

He hugged me, then moved to hold me around the shoulders. Chibs approached and looked the bike over, putting an arm around my waist. I shook my head, tears pouring down my cheeks, and I wondered how the hell I wasn’t tapped out yet.

“I love you guys,” I whispered.

“Love you, too, darlin’,” Tig replied.

Chibs kissed the top of my head.

“Always,” he replied.

I couldn’t help but look up at the sky and smile, knowing that my guardian had been right.  
So this is what it was like to be a part of an M/C…

These were my brothers.

And the man I loved.

They were my family.

I was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This sounded like a finale, but this is most definitely not the end. Only the beginning of the middle.


	29. Ri Do Thaobh Gu Siorraidh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Your Side Forever

_Three figures circled a fourth on its knees. A fifth had a gun at my head.  
  
“We told you so.”  
  
I swallowed thickly and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, the gunman looked from me to the fourth man. One of the figures ripped a black veil from the man’s head, the veil turning to black smoke and vanishing. The man was Chibs, bound and gagged, blood dripping down his face and his eyes closed in pain. I took in a short breath.  
  
“You motherfuckers. Let him go!”  
  
Chibs hung his head, his shoulders shaking. The first figure, the tallest of them all, looked to me. I could not see his face.  
  
“You did this,” he said.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
“Please, let him go! If you need a body, take me!” I pleaded.  
  
“We’re tired of making deals with you,” the second one said.  
  
The first one held the gun to Chibs’ head. Chibs looked up at me, sad eyes pleading.  
  
“Don’t! Please!” I screamed.  
  
The first one pulled the trigger, and Chibs dropped like a dead deer. I screamed in horror and dropped to my knees.  
  
“Let her live. The guilt will make her try to kill herself again,” one of the figures said.  
  
And with that, they vanished. I crawled over to Chibs’ limp form and picked him up. I hugged his body to me and cried against the side of his head, the other side spilling warm blood onto my arm.  
  
“I’m so sorry, Filip,” I whispered.  
  
I half expected him to open his eyes and speak, but he didn’t, and I remained holding him, loudly and mourning his loss, left alone in the world once again. _  
  
I must have screamed myself awake, because when my mouth closed as my eye opened and I caught my breath, I made a rough gasping sound. My throat burned, and I propped myself up to cough and gripped my throat. However, the burning wouldn’t go away, and I figured I had choked on phlegm or something equally as gross. I had to stop smoking.  
I got up and walked across the hall to the bathroom, flicking the lights on and turning the faucet on. Down the hall, I heard Chibs’ door open and his feet across the floor. I brushed fringe out of my eyes and bent over to drink straight from the faucet, not giving a shit about finding a cup or using my hands. I rinsed my mouth out, then took a few relieving swallows. Chibs shot into the doorway.  
  
“What the hell’s goin’ on? Are ya okay?” he asked, scared shitless.  
  
I nodded swallowing. I turned the water off and look up to see him standing in the doorway in a worn black tank and gray sweatpants, a gun in one hand.  
  
“Jesus Christ, Chibs,” I said.  
  
“Well, I heard ya screamin’!” he replied, “What was I s’posed to think?”  
  
I sighed and grabbed the hand towel from the rack to dry my face. Chibs leaned in the doorframe, his body making the doorway look tiny. He relaxed and watched me with tired eyes.  
  
“Nightmare?” he asked.  
  
I rolled my eyes and nodded.  
  
“My lovely little curse,” I replied bitterly.  
  
He leaned his head to the side, resting it on the frame. I tossed the towel into the small hamper, which was loaded with his clothes. I looked over him and felt my mood bottom out. Seeing him in that nightmare, tortured and bloody…holding his lifeless body in my arms. I knew that I never wanted to lose him, and in finally sealing our relationship—with each other and the club, I guess the anxiety finally hit. Can’t run from depression for very long. At least, not for me.  
I walked into his chest and held him fast to me, fisting the fabric of his tank.  
  
“Callie,” he said softly, “Sweetheart, it’s okay.”  
  
I didn’t even realize I was crying until he tried to wipe my cheek.  
  
“Come on. Let’s go to my room,” he said.  
  
I didn’t object, and turned the lights off before shuffling off behind him. We walked inside of his room, which looked totally different at night. The fan was on, but the light was coming from a fluorescent source on top of the closet, lighting up the entire room and casting a cooler temperature over the warmly colored room. On the nightstand was a bottle of whisky, still open, and a shot glass.  
  
“Have…have you even gone to bed yet?” I asked, looking around.  
  
Chibs put the lid back on the bottle and shook his head.  
  
“Nah. Tonight is one of those nights were my insomnia takes over,” he replied, then winked at me, “My little curse.”  
  
I crossed my arms and smiled.  
  
“Too hyped up,” I said.  
  
I had found that he was extremely energetic, and when you got him started, it took him a long time to come down and relax again.  
  
“Meh. Juicey thinks I’m a vampire,” he said, then snorted.  
  
I laughed and crawled into his bed…well, more like took off like a little kid in a hotel room and jumped on it. He didn’t seem phased as he walked around the corner and turned the light off. He returned to bed and slid in. I turned on my side to face him, and scooted up to me, wrapping the sheets around us. I laid my head on his shoulder.  
  
“Does Count Filip bite?” I asked jokingly.  
  
Chibs chuckled.  
  
“Nah,” he said.  
  
I felt his mustache tickle my cheek before warm lips pressed to the apex of my cheekbone. No, Chibs was too sweet to bite.  
I sighed and curled against him, taking in his scent, the horror of my nightmare and the image of him dead fading away.  
  
“I love you, Filip,” I whispered.  
  
“I love ya, too, Callie,” he said, now sounding a little sleepy.  
  
I reached up lightly scratched his scalp, the repetitive motion causing both of us to finally fall asleep.  
  
***  
  
I peeled my eyes open to a brightly lit room. I was cocooned within the sheets, warm with no desire to move. I stretched and looked around. All was quiet except for the occasional whir of the ceiling fan, its speed set on low. I yawned and turned my head to look at Chibs. When I saw him, I couldn’t help but smile.  
His face was relaxed—peaceful, even. Pieces of brown and silver had fallen across his cheek, the rest smashed into the pillows. I raised my head to look at the clock, seeing that it was a little passed 9:00. I laid back down and focused back on Chibs. I needed to get up soon and head out. I had a little mission today, but I could afford to spend a little bit more time here.  
Chibs, assuming he fell asleep when I did, had only had about five hours of sleep, but even so, he looked rested. The bags under his eyes were barely visible, and he looked insanely comfortable. His lips were just slightly parted at the center. I brushed his hair out of his face. He could be terrifying at times, but asleep, he held the softest, sweetest expression. Exhaustion and his own nightmares were forgotten. It was just him and his pillows. I ran my eyes over his one exposed arm, my eyes falling on his anarchy symbol tattoo. I think out of all of them, that one was my favorite.  
Chibs’ eyes opened, warm brown eyes squinting for a moment before his world came into focus. He blinked and when he eyes fell upon me, he smiled sweetly.  
  
“Mornin’, darlin’,” he said sleepily, his voice gruff and not awake.  
  
I smiled back.  
  
“Morning, baby.”  
  
Chibs cupped my cheek. He studied my face before he raised up and leaned down to kiss me.  
  
“Ya sleep better?” he asked.  
  
I nodded. Definitely!  
  
“Yeah. How about you? Did you get any shut-eye?” I asked.  
  
He nodded.  
  
“Yeah. Finally,” he said sarcastically.  
  
I laughed as he rolled his eyes. He then smiled and pulled himself closer to me.  
  
“I’d be a dick if I told ya you’d have to sleep on that shite futon forever,” he said, then picked up one of my hands and gently rubbed it, “Ya could sneak in here any time.”  
  
It was way too early to melt into goo, but I did. He tipped his head down to mine.  
  
“I like this,” he said.  
  
I smiled and stroked his cheek.  
  
“Yeah, me too,” I whispered.  
  
Chibs smiled and pressed his lips to mine.  
  
“How’s your back?” he asked.  
  
I smiled at that. It had been just over a week since I was patched in, the first few days of healing were brutal. The only thing that helped alleviate the swelling were showers, and the itching was starting to become a pain, but all of that stopped when I let Chibs apply the lotion. I had to keep it hydrated, and couldn’t reach the entire piece of my own. Besides, who could resist a nice back rub?  
  
“Better,” I replied, “I’m going to go have a shower and get dressed. Have some stuff to do today.”  
  
He looked at me curiously. There was no church, and no club work scheduled for today.  
  
“Like what?” he asked, pushing some of my hair behind an ear.  
  
“Regular day bullshit. Venus has her last follow-up for her wrist. I was going to go check in with her,” I replied.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“I have some errands to run, too. TM shit. I should be done by noon if ya wanna go eat,” he said.  
  
I felt a pain in my chest at that. I couldn’t tell him about my little mission. Not that it would hurt him or the club. It was nothing like that. It was just a little secret that I wanted to be a surprise…for him. I had no idea if I could complete that mission before noon.  
  
“I don’t know if I’ll be done by then,” I said.  
  
Chibs’ disappointment was like a knife in my chest.  
  
“But look,” I said quickly, “I’ll call you when I’m on my way home, okay?”  
  
He smiled at that. I pecked his lips and sat up, climbing out of bed.  
  
“You need anything while I’m gone?” I asked.  
  
Chibs rolled onto his back.  
  
“No, sweetheart,” he replied.  
  
I walked over to his side of the bed and leaned over him.  
  
“I’ll be back in a few hours,” I said softly.  
  
Chibs smiled.  
  
“‘Kay,” he said.  
  
“Call me if you need me,” I said.  
  
He nodded sleepily. I leaned down to kiss him.  
  
“Love you.”  
  
“Love you, too,” he replied, coaxing my head back down.  
  
In one swift and unexpected move, he pulled me back down on top of him and captured my mouth. I laughed and put my arms around him. I’ll leave in a minute…  
  
***  
  
I knew better than to do this. Maybe I’m a masochist deep down. I hated being in pain. No one fucking likes it, but one could say I was a masochist for doing this just a week after one of SAMCRO’s master assassins drove a needle through my skin for three hours straight. However, I was ready to do this.  
I parked down in front of some insurance or some other shit place. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I parked behind someone’s Mini Cooper and walked up the sidewalk to an address Juice, Tig, and even Wendy had suggested to me. A small joint, full of neon signs and a guy sporting giant gauges sitting out front. I smiled to him and walked inside to the counter. A girl behind the counter with blonde hair, cut Rockabilly style, with her septum and cheeks pierced, looked up from the computer to me.  
  
“Good morning. Can I help you?” she asked.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“I had an appointment with Tim,” I replied.  
  
She nodded and checked the book.  
  
“Name?” she asked.  
  
“Callie Shepherd,” I replied.  
  
She found my name and nodded.  
  
“Yup. There it is. Tim’s doing a piercing right now, so you can sit down and relax until he’s ready,” she said.  
  
I smiled and thanked her. I sat down and called Venus, checking in like I had told Chibs I would. Then, I picked up a random tattoo magazine, a half-naked girl on the front sporting and very beautiful tattoo of a koi fish on her arm. I went through the magazine, looking at all of the tattoos, my tattoo itch growing significantly in a matter of minutes. I couldn’t wait for this one.  
  
***  
  
“Does this even look like it goes on this?” Tig asked.  
  
Chibs looked up from a Harley manual to a part Tig was holding in his hand. He was sitting in the floor of the garage, organizing the parts of Callie’s Sportster and making a list of parts that needed to be ordered. Chibs was helping while waiting on Happy to arrive.  
  
“Let me see,” Chibs said.  
  
Tig handed the part to Chibs. He examined it before laughing.  
  
“I suggest ya double check all of these parts. This is some sort of housin’ for somethin’. A car, most likely.”  
  
“That’s what I thought,” Tig said, taking the piece back.  
  
Chibs nodded and went back to the manual.  
  
“Where’s baby girl at? Sleeping?” Tig asked.  
  
Chibs shook his head.  
  
“Said she had some errands to run,” he replied.  
  
Tig looked up at him.  
  
“What kind?” he asked curiously.  
  
Chibs shrugged and slapped the manual closed.  
  
“Dunno,” he said.  
  
A rumble of a Harley made the President and VP look up.  
  
“There’s Hap,” Tig said.  
  
Chibs sighed.  
  
“Can’t be more secretive than what I’m fixin’ to do,” he said.  
  
Tig cut his eyes at him.  
  
“Which is what?” he asked demandingly.  
  
Chibs just grinned and walked off to talk to Happy, leaving Tig in his pile of motorcycle parts, shaking his head.  
  
***  
  
It was noon when my mission was finished, but on the way to my bike, I ran into Venus, who was heading out to pay her phone bill, and since I was starving, we went to lunch together. It was almost two in the afternoon when I returned home. I felt awful for not being able to meet with Chibs for lunch, but I hoped my mission, and a quick run for his favorite from the Mexican restaurant did the trick.  
When I pulled into the carport, all of the vehicles were there. I dismounted and pulled the sack of food from the saddlebag before letting myself in through the side entrance. Inside, I could hear the dishwasher and the television in the living room. I walked down the hall and into the living room. The television was playing some Top Fast Car show bullshit, and Chibs was on the couch, curled up under his Harley blanket, catching up on the sleep he had lost last night. I smiled and set the bag of food on the coffee table, then leaned over and kissed his forehead. He sniffed himself awake and looked up.  
  
“Hey. Brought you something to eat,” I said softly.  
  
Chibs looked to the bag of food and smiled.  
  
“I would have been back earlier, but I ran into Venus,” I explained.  
  
“I understand. How was you morning?” he asked.  
  
“Perfect,” I replied, “I’m going to go have a shower real quick.”  
  
“‘Kay. Thank ya, darlin’.”  
  
I patted his shoulder and walked down the hall dumping my bag off at my room, grabbing a change of clothes, and quickly hoping into the shower.  
After my shower, I wrapped a towel around myself and looked at myself in the mirror. I almost didn’t recognize myself for a second. There was a large black mass across my chest, outlined in pink, swollen skin. I smiled at my reflection and lightly traced the lines on my chest, which made up a large crow that spanned my chest, the wing tips reaching my shoulders. The beak was pointing upwards and the tail traveling just into my cleavage—a shadow flying over me, filled with Celtic knots. It was an idea that struck me on the road. We were on a run, and I was looking to my side at the countryside, noticing how green it was becoming, and wondering if it was anything like Scotland. It reminded me of pictures. During that moment, I had gone from wanting to go home and listen to Celtic music, to just randomly coming up with the idea for my crow. If it would be Chibs’ crow, why not let it reflect his roots? Besides, after working with Juice in Photoshop and bouncing some ideas around with my tattoo artist, we came up with the perfect crow.  
I made a little addition to the crow. I didn’t want it to be just a Celtic crow. I wanted it to speak. I wanted it to boldly say what it meant to me, and what it would mean to Chibs. So, after some research and several moment of temptations to flat out ask, as I knew he was trilingual and could probably answer it right off the bat, but one, I couldn’t. That would blow the surprise. And two, I probably wouldn’t have been able to understand it. So, after extensive research online, I found a phrase I liked and an accurate translation that fit perfectly. Along my collarbone, in a slight curve, written in a font that reminded me of the Renaissance festivals, books like “Lord of the Rings,” and other fantastical movies and such, was the Scottish Gaelic phrase “Ri do thaodh gu sìorraidh” which meant “At your side forever.” It was a bold thing to have tattooed on myself, as, god forbid, this relationship could end, but it meant more than just being his for the rest of my life. I was also a Sister of Anarchy for the rest of my life, and it meant that I would still take a bullet for him, relationship or not.  
A knock at the door made me jump, and I quickly tore my towel off and went after my clothes, which were sitting on the toilet lid.  
  
“Be out in a sec!” I called.  
  
“No rush,” Chibs replied.  
  
I threw my clothes on quickly and ran a brush through my hair, working out the knots and not bothering to blow dry it. I didn’t plan on going anywhere for the rest of the day, anyway.  
I gathered my dirty clothes and put them under my arm before opening the door.  
  
“All yours!” I called.  
  
“Come in here for a second!” Chibs called from down the hall.  
  
I walked down the hall, tossing my clothes into a hamper in the utility room before turning to find Chibs inside his bedroom, door opened. He was standing at his dresser, picking up some things and removing the beads from his arm.  
  
“I wanna show ya somethin’,” he said.  
  
I stepped inside and crossed my arms over my chest. He tossed the beads onto the dresser and turned to me.  
  
“Ya remember that promise we made to each other?” he asked.  
  
I nodded, watching as he stepped closer to me.  
  
“Of course,” I replied.  
  
Suddenly it hit me, and I wondered why he was asking.  
  
“Wait! Why?” I asked.  
  
Chibs smiled.  
  
“Nothin’ bad. Come here.”  
  
I stepped up to him. He turned his right arm over, showing me old, faded scars, and just below his palm, fresh ink.  
  
“What do ya think about that?” he asked.  
  
I felt my jaw drop as my eyes widened.  
  
“Holy shit! Let me see!” I said excitedly.  
  
Chibs let me take his arm and turned so I could see the image right-side up. There actually two.  
  
“Happy did them for me,” he said.  
  
I held his wrist and looked over the tattoos. The top, closest to his hand, was a very ornate Celtic, or possibly even tribal style bird, and below it, much to my surprise, was my name.  
  
“Whoa! Hey, that’s my handwriting,” I said.  
  
I looked up to see him smiling smugly.  
  
“I know,” he said.  
  
I looked back down at his wrist and back to him again.  
  
“How the hell…?”  
  
He grinned.  
  
“Took a picture of your lighter,” he replied.  
  
I stared at him in surprise before smiling widely.  
  
“Clever,” I said.  
  
Chibs chuckled.  
  
“I just thought, ya know, it was a good idea. Seals that promise. Reminds me who shined a light in my life,” he said softly.  
  
I felt heat rush to my cheeks. This was huge—for both of us. Not only did this man have my name tattooed on him, which was absolutely crazy to me, but I meant enough to him to have my name on his arm, and that meant the world to me.  
I gently touched the fresh ink, and realized that the bird was a phoenix.  
  
“Chibs, this is amazing!”  
  
“Ya like it?” he asked.  
  
I looked up at him.  
  
“I do,” I replied, then reached up to hug him, “Thank you.”  
  
Chibs nuzzled my cheek and kissed it.  
  
“Welcome, darlin’,” he said softly.  
  
We parted, and I took a step backwards.  
  
“I guess I have something to show you, too,” I said.  
  
Chibs tilted his head to the side. I took a deep breath, my nerves suddenly getting the better of me.  
  
“What is it, love?” he asked softly.  
  
I smiled at me, trying to ignore my racing heart as I hooked my index fingers into the collar of my t-shirt and pulled it down, revealing the majority of my crow. Chibs’ eyes widened and he shot over to me.  
  
“My God,” he breathed out.  
  
He took my shoulders and pulled on my collar to see the rest.  
  
“So this was what ya were up to,” he said.  
  
I nodded. He traced the skin beneath my collarbone.  
  
“Ri do thaobh gu sìorraidh,” he read, the words coming more naturally out of his mouth than they could out of mine.  
  
“At your side forever,” I said.  
  
He smiled and nodded.  
  
“This is absolutely beautiful, Callie girl. I could have gone with ya, you know?”  
  
I nodded.  
  
“I know. I wanted it to be a surprise,” I replied, “So, surprise!”  
  
Chibs laughed, tracing the knots in the crow with his eyes.  
  
“You like it?” I asked.  
  
“I love it,” he said softly.  
  
I let go of my collar and smiled up at him. He smiled and cupped my face, bringing me in. I held his neck and kissed him softly.  
  
“I’m all yours now,” I said.  
  
Chibs smiled and captured my mouth as his. He moved his hands down, cupping my hips. I gripped the front of his t-shirt. He scooped me up, and I felt my body flush as he laid me down on the bed and prowled over me. Something sparked within me. Something that hadn’t been ignited in six years, and when Chibs looked down on me with a smoldering look of desire in his eyes, I suddenly wanted him.  
Chibs assaulted my mouth, and I willingly granted him access. As soon as I did, I moaned into his mouth, which made him deepen the kiss further. He broke from my mouth, only to trail light kisses across my cheek and down to my neck. I reached for his face and brought his head back up. I said nothing as I looked up at him, stroking his cheeks with my thumbs. He smiled softly and reached up to hold one of my wrists. I took his hand, which happened to be his right, and brought his new tattoo up to kiss it gently. Chibs just smiled, his dimples appearing just above his scars, and it was beautiful. He would never believe me, and would most likely deny it, but he really was gorgeous. Warm brown eyes, big bright smile that lit up his entire face, broad shoulders, sharp collarbones, and hands that could either choke you out the first try, or hold with such tenderness. He held himself with such confidence, a cool head, and even though he didn’t think so, he was exceedingly intelligent. Sitting and listening to him, especially when planning at chapel, I always felt like an idiot. His ideas were ingenious, and I would have never thought up anything close.  
Chibs ducked his head down and resumed kissing me. Underneath that beauty, no would could argue he was stunningly sexy. The looks he gave me, that glorious accent and deep, gruff voice of his, the way he manned the crew and his motorcycles, the way he walked, those long legs, muscular arms, whether they were shooting or hugging. He was all man. There was hardly a damn thing feminine about him, and I think that’s what turned me on more than anything.  
Chibs and I backed up straightening ourselves over the large bed. We both knew what we wanted at this point, it was just a matter of saying so. Chibs breathed heavily against the side of my head.  
  
“I’m gonna tell ya somethin’, darlin’,” he said gruffly, “I am completely ready to go right now.”  
  
I laughed at that. He grinned and kissed my temple.  
  
“But,” he continued, “Only if ya want to. I’m not gonna make ya rush this. I know it’s been a long time since ya have been with anyone.”  
  
I sighed and put my arms around his neck.  
  
“Chibs, I’m not gonna lie. I’m about six years out of practice.”  
  
“Oh, Jesus Christ!” he laughed.  
  
“Hey! I am a solo expert!” I said.  
  
Chibs smiled and shook his head.  
  
“But I can’t guarantee you I’m an expert at this,” I said.  
  
“Oh, now I don’t believe that for minute,” he popped off.  
  
Before I could argue, all sound was swallowed by a heated kiss.  
  
“Filip,” I breathed out as he latched himself to my neck.  
  
“What is it, sweetheart?” he asked.  
  
I reached for the front of his shirt and yanked him back up.  
  
“Take your goddamn pants off!” I growled.  
  
His eyes darkened, and I had a feeling I just unleashed a beast. He sat up on his knees and pulled on his belt with such ferocity, I thought he might break the damn thing. I sat up and grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up. He ducked out of his, revealing his broad chest and the rest of his tattoos. I felt my eyes widen. I put my hands on his chest and locked my mouth onto his neck, grazing my teeth against the skin. Chibs wrenched out a gasp and put an arm around me. I pulled him back down on top of me. He crawled out of his jeans and pushed my shirt up. I pulled it off of me. It was at this moment that I normally starting getting self-conscious. However, Chibs loving eyes made that go away.  
He looked me over before his eyes landed on my newest tattoo. He smiled and leaned down, kissing the tender skin.  
  
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he said.  
  
I closed my eyes as his hands ran up my sides and across my breasts. I held him to me and coaxed his head back up. He watched me for a moment, as if waiting for me to change my mind.  
  
“Sit up,” he said.  
  
I did as I was told.  
  
“Turn around. I want to see your other one,” he said.  
  
I spun around and let him look at my club ink. He unhooked my bra, and I tossed it. He held my shoulders and kissed the tattoo. I relaxed as he smooth his hands around my stomach and kissed my shoulder. I was lost in the moment, turned to absolute putty in his loving hands. I turned my head towards him and reached around to run my fingers through his hair. His lips detached from the skin and he gently turned me back around to face him. He pressed his lips against mine, massaging them against me and briefly distracting me from his fingers hooking into the waistband of my pajama bottoms and panties and pulling. I lifted my butt to help the process. He pulled them free before wriggling out his boxers and prowling back over me.  
His hands found my breasts and lightly massaged as he took my mouth again. I cradled the back of his head as he trailed down my neck, pressed butterfly-light kisses to my crow, and took my left breast into his mouth. I gasped and gripped his hair as an electric jolt shot through my chest and down my body.  
  
“Shit,” I breathed out.  
  
He gave the right the same treatment before kissing down my stomach. Just as he made it to my pubic bone, he decided to be a tease and came back up. He reached over to the nightstand, opened the door, and pulled a small silver square from it.  
Good thing he had prepared.  
  
“Safety first, darlin,” he said.  
  
I smiled and watched as he opened it, ripping the foil with his teeth.  
  
“Hey, Chibs?” I asked.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“You’re clean, right?” I asked.  
  
He smiled and nodded.  
  
“Yes, sweetheart,” he replied.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Me, too,” I said.  
  
He just laughed, but I could feel my heart racing a mile a minute.  
  
Safety in place, he moved back over me and scooped me up.  
  
“Relax, my sweet girl,” he said softly.  
  
I gave him a shy smile and patted his chest. He kissed my cheek as I put my arms around his neck.  
  
“I got you,” he whispered.  
  
I held him tightly as he straddled me and sunk into me. I closed my eyes and kissed his shoulder.  
Chibs didn’t let me go for a second as he moved slowly, letting me adjust and taking it easy. I locked my legs around his hips. He kissed me passionately, each of murmuring softly and moaning. I was lost. My body was on fire, and each movement was bliss. Chibs’ hands roamed my body, and mine his, feeling soft scar tissue, the curves of his biceps, all of which were relatively hairless. He felt amazing beneath the hands, and for the rest, like heaven.  
Soon, I felt the edge approaching. I was lost in him, holding his shoulders and closing my eyes as my mind soared. We moved faster, each thrust sending a jolt of delicious ecstasy through my body. I tried to combat his movements, keeping a rhythm, but only for short moments, for my legs were shaking.  
  
“Sweet boy,” I breathed into his neck.  
  
I kissed up his neck and nipped his earlobe, causing him to moan.  
  
“Come with me, sweetheart,” he said.  
  
I laid my head back on the pillows and gazed up at him. Watching him was enough to send me straight to the edge.  
  
“Shit,” I hissed, clawing his bicep.  
  
Chibs sped up just a little, and that was all it took. My body seized before arching into him and spasming, powerful orgasmic surges rocking my whole body and gripping him tightly. Chibs eyes rolled back and he let out a strangled moan.  
  
“Filip! Fuck!” I blurted out loudly.  
  
Chibs collapsed on top of me, catching himself before his full weight landed on me. I pulled him to me, our sweaty bodies meshing together.  
  
“Not too out of practice?” I asked breathlessly.  
  
Chibs raised his head and moved to my side.  
  
“You’re fucking perfect, Callie,” he replied.  
  
I smiled, taking his goatee and kissing him.  
  
“I love you, sweetheart,” he said.  
  
“I love you, too, baby.”  
  
Chibs sighed and nuzzled the side of my head.  
  
“I could go for round two,” he said.  
  
I stared at him in surprise. So, Venus was right.  
  
Chibs shrugged. I growled and yanked him back to me. We spent the rest of the next hour or so making love, getting to know each other’s bodies—worshipping each other. One thing I was absolutely certain of, was that I was indeed head over heels in love with this man, and he made sure to show me just how much he loved me. He let me know that I was his, and I could not have had it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys thought!  
> Thanks for reading!


	30. Strike 2

It was a decision made out of boredom for the two. An innocent decision, really. Go out. Ride around. Keep themselves from getting hammered at the clubhouse. They enjoyed each other’s company, and had become good friends in time they had known each other. The kid was game for just about anything thrown his way. Although, the night of the clubhouse reopening party, he found the kid face down in his own puke and a girl in nothing but a leather thong and fishnets. He reminded him a lot of himself when he was a Prospect, and even when he was freshly patched. This kid couldn’t handle his liquor, but he was fun to party and get high with. On this night, Juice had wished he and RJ had spent the night at the clubhouse. He would have much rather had a Crow Eater rub up against him than the pavement.  
They two didn’t see it coming. It was dark, and they were not paying attention. They wanted to go home. However, as they traveled down the dark streets, in pursuit of Juice’s neighborhood, RJ’s back tire was blown out. He fishtailed, clipping Juice and sending both bikes down. Juice had the chance to jump, rolling across the road and feeling gritty concrete tear against the side of his head. RJ’s leg was caught underneath his bike, creating a gaping cut down his thigh. He cried out as the bike spun away, but was able to bring himself to his feet. Juice was disoriented, and for a life-threatening moment, could not make heads or tails of direction. RJ pulled his gun from the inside of his cut and cocked it, pointing it at two figures, dressed darkly, with black ski masks over their faces. He could see them going after Juice, and he shot.  
The bullet entered the shoulder of one. The masked man cried out and grabbed his shoulder. The other checked him just as Juice realized what was happening, and reached for his own gun.

“That motherfucker got me in the shoulder!” he growled.

RJ’s face fell. He knew that voice.

The other growled and came after him. RJ kept his gun pointed at the man.

“One more step, and I’ll fucking kill you!” he threatened.

The man stopped, then blinked and squinted before he burst out laughing.

“Oh, holy shit! You’re supposed to be dead, Prospect,” he said.

“And you will be,” RJ growled.

Juice climbed to his feet and pointed his gun at the man going after RJ.

“Drop it!” he shouted.

The other man lifted his gun to Juice.

“You drop it!” he snapped.

Juice looked to the man.

“You kill him and I’ll kill you,” Juice said.

The man in front of RJ shrugged. He then shot. Juice screamed as he watched RJ crumple to the ground, and shot at the killer. The other man shot at Juice, the bullet entering his chest. Juice fell back onto the pavement.

“What do you want me to do with him?” the guy who shot him asked the other.

Juice, shaking and holding his wound, feeling his blood seep through his fingers.

“I don’t give a shit,” the other replied, “But make it hurt.”

The other nodded and pulled a switchblade from his pocket. He pushed his sleeves up, to Juice’s surprise, he saw arms covered in colorful tattoos, none of which he could decipher at the moment. The guy walked over to him, leaned over him, and drove the blade into his guts. Juice tried to scream, but it gave way to a gurgling cough. The man stabbed him again, and Juice’s vision began to black out.

“Good enough, bro. Let’s go.”

The blade left his guts, and Juice lost consciousness.

***

Chibs didn’t live with many rules. Clean up after yourself, flush the toilet, don’t jump on the goddamn bed. Stuff that shouldn’t need to be vocalized. All common sense. There were a few things that I needed to add to that list. Like, not turning your back on him for a second, because that’s all it takes for an idea to fly into his head, and another second to execute it. And whatever you do, do not decide to make brownies first thing in the morning. Brownie batter attracts Chibs like a fly to horse shit. The entire kitchen smelled like chocolate.  
As I poured the batter into the pan, I felt arms wrap around my waist.

“Chocolate cake?” he asked.

I felt my shoulders drop. Damn! I should have made that instead!

“Brownies,” I replied.

Chibs kissed the crook of my neck and whimpered.

“Love brownies,” he said, voice muffled and his facial hair tickling my neck.

I grabbed the bowl and a spoon and scooped out some of the leftovers.

“You wanna lick the bowl, baby?” I asked.

Chibs hummed and turned me around, picking me up and setting me on the counter. He pinned me in as I held the messy spoon up.

“I can think of several things I wanna lick,” he said lowly.

I laughed and playfully swatted his shoulder. He watched with hooded lids as I put the spoon in my mouth, and I had to hide the want to roll my eyes. It may have been instant mix, but it was damn good instant mix! Chibs bounced up and down impatiently. I smiled and scooped out a glob for him. I held the spoon between us and he put it in his mouth.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled.

“I know, right?”

Chibs chuckled and pressed his lips to mine. I couldn’t suppress a moan as I held a hand against his chest, tasting the brownie batter on his tongue. Jesus Christ!

Chibs phone rang in his pocket, and we regrettably parted.

“Perfect timing,” I commented

Chibs smiled.

“Aye,” he agreed.

He fished his phone out of his back pocket and checked the caller I.D. He furrowed his eyebrows, but went ahead and answered.

“Hello?”

I pulled him against me and laid my head on his shoulder.

“This is he,” Chibs said, “…What?…Where?”

I raised my head and looked up at him worriedly. He shot a look of terror at me.

“Jesus Christ!…Okay…Okay, I’ll be there,” he said, then hung up.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Juice and RJ got jumped early this mornin’. They’re at St. Thomas,” he said.

“Holy shit!”

“Go get dressed. I’m callin’ Tig.”

I nodded and hopped down, grabbing the pan of uncooked brownies and throwing them in the fridge before racing around the corner and down the hall. I threw on whatever I saw that matched. A red Coca-Cola t-shirt, black jeans. Good enough. I threw on my boots, then ran down the hall to the master bedroom for my black hoodie and my cut. I grabbed my gun off of the nightstand I had begun to occupy after my bedroom upgrade, grabbed a random bandana off of the dresser to cover my messy hair, then snagged my shades and cell phone before meeting Chibs under the carport. I put my gun inside my cut and put my gloves on. Chibs mounted his Dyna and put his helmet on. I grabbed my full face, which Tig had finally given back to me, and mounted my own bike.

“Ya stay close to me,” Chibs said.

I nodded and stuffed my head inside my helmet.

“Always,” I replied.

We started our bikes, and I followed him slowly down the gravel drive, and we shot off down the road and back into Charming.

***

I followed Chibs’ impatiently long strides down the halls of St. Thomas hospital, in search of the desk we were directed to, trying to find someone who could tell us where Juice was. Tig and Happy flanked us, and the rest of the club followed, creating a full murder of black crows flying through white hallways. We walked down to a desk where several receptionists and nurses were working. One looked up from a computer.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

Chibs opened his mouth to speak when a nurse appeared behind the desk.

“Mr. Telford?” she asked.

Chibs nodded. She waved us over and into a nearby waiting room.

“Are you family? I ask because out of the two people on his emergency contact list, you were the only one we could reach,” she said.

“Not blood, but yeah,” Chibs replied.

The nurse nodded and shut the door.

“A Clarence Morrow was the other contact. Is there a way we can reach him?”

“Doesn’t matter. He wasn’t blood,” Tig said.

“Clay passed away several years ago. Ya might as well remove him from that list,” Chibs said.

The nurse nodded again.

“I will see to it,” she said, “Mr. Ortiz was found in the middle of the road with another man, I’m assuming part of your club. Both were wearing the same vest.”

All of us cringed at that word, but didn’t call her out.

“A man found them and called 911. He thought the two had been in an accident, but upon further inspection, he saw that they had been shot. Police say that Ortiz was shot in the chest and stabbed multiple times in the abdomen.”

I closed my eyes and looked away from her, a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“And RJ?” Tig asked.

The nurse’s expression saddened.

“Mr. Richards had been shot in the head. He had already passed when they found him,” she replied.

I gripped Chibs’ arm.

“Damn,” I breathed out.

“Jesus,” Chibs said, looking up at the ceiling.

“Mr. Ortiz is in surgery right now. As soon as he’s out, we’ll call for you,” she replied.

We nodded, and she left us alone in the waiting room.

“Holy shit, brother,” Tig said.

Chibs swallowed hard.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

“What should we do, boss?” Happy asked.

Chibs looked to Happy.

“Well, there’s not much we can do here until Juice is out of surgery,” he said.

“This has to be retaliation,” Tig whispered.

“We can’t be sure of that. But we have to find the motherfuckers that did this,” Chibs replied, “I want all of ya to go see what you can find. If this is the XMC, the last thing we need is the police behind it.”

Tig nodded.

“We got it,” Rane said.

“Callie and I will stay here. Tiggy, take them out. Lockdown Diosa, Redwoody, and the clubhouse. If they’re comin’ after us, those will be their next stops.”

Tig clapped his hand on Chibs’ shoulder.

“Got it, brother. Call us if anything changes,” he said.

Chibs nodded, and we said goodbye to the guys before we were left alone. Chibs put an arm around me.

“Shot in the chest. Stabbed in the gut,” he said as we walked over to the couch.

I sat down and rubbed my face.

“God, Chibs, what if he doesn’t make it?” I asked.

He put an arm around me and nuzzled his face against the side of my head.

“Let’s just hope he does, love,” he said softly.

I looked down and shook my head. RJ was dead, and Juice had nearly been slaughtered in cold blood. Chances of being able to survive as long as he had were slim anyway.

“First Venus. Now Juice,” I said.

“He’ll be okay, and we’re going to find who did this. Right now, we just have to wait,” he said.

I nodded. I didn’t even know if I could wait. I wanted to do something. I couldn’t just sit around, feeling useless.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Chibs said softly.

He backed into the corner of the couch and pulled me to him, our bodies stretching out across the cushions. He wrapped his arms around me, and I laid my head on his chest. If there was some greater force out there, than I hoped that the force saved my brother.

***

Chibs and I were in and out of consciousness for several hours. We were never approached by any staff members, nor did we hear from the boys. Hopefully, that was a good thing. I meant the boys were busy, and no one was coming up to us and asking which funeral home we preferred.  
I had fallen asleep for an unknown amount of time when the sound of the door opening woke me.

“Filip,” a female voice spoke.

I opened my eyes and looked up. Chibs jumped beneath me. There was a taller, thin woman standing in the doorway, dark brown hair pulled back in a bun, dressed head to toe in black. Why, it was Sheriff Slut!

“Christ,” Chibs muttered.

I felt his arms tighten around me and he shifted, turning a little towards the back of the couch so he wouldn’t have to face her. An arm that had fallen to his side during sleep wound back around me. I was too tired and too worried about Juice to pay any mind to her, and I closed my eyes, burying my face in Chibs’ t-shirt, his cut and jacket being tossed on the table of magazines on top of mine.

“I hate to interrupt, but—“

“I thought you were gone,” Chibs interrupted.

I heard Althea clear her throat.

“The job didn’t work out. The department let me resume my work here,” she replied.

Chibs let out an irritated breath, and I could feel him tense beneath me. I was pretending to be asleep, more to avoid communication and to keep myself in check, but I was able to very subtly rub my fingers against his stomach, calming him somewhat.

“Great,” he said sarcastically, “What do ya want?”

“I need to talk to you about the hit and run. Get some answers about who—“

“This can’t fuckin’ wait?” Chibs snapped.

I peeled my eyes open to see her reaction. She had made it just a little bit closer, but looked hesitant to move in.

Be scared, Sheriff.

“I’ve been here since 9:00 this mornin’ waitin’ for answers while my brother is in there fightin’ for his life! I know all ya think of us is that we’re a bunch of degenerates, but we’re fuckin’ human, and one of our own is dead, and the other hanging by a string.”

Althea nodded and cast a nervous glance to me. Her eyes widened when she saw me staring at her. She waited quietly, as if I would say something, but I just closed my eyes and turned my head away.

“I understand,” she said.

“Good,” Chibs said, sounding one hundred percent done with her, “Then, you’ll understand that I want ya to kindly fuck off.”

My eyes snapped open and I bit my bottom lip, trying not to laugh.

Althea nodded.

“Right,” she said, then turned on her heel and promptly left the waiting room.

Chibs relaxed then.

“That’s a problem,” he said.

I looked up and out the window to see her talking to one of her deputies.

“She’ll stop at nothing to solve this, and with personal shit with me, no doubt she’ll give us a hell,” he went on.

“She needs to be reminded where her place is,” I said darkly.

Chibs chuckled and rubbed my side.

“I’m surprised ya didn’t say anythin’,” he said.

I shrugged.

“I wanted to make her nervous,” I said.

Chibs kissed the top of my head.

“We might as well head out and grab something to eat. Check in and see how Juice is,” he said.

I nodded in agreement and sat up. Chibs stretched before swinging his legs around. I stood reached for our cuts, handing his over. He thanked me, put it on, then as we walked out the door, he slung an arm around my shoulders and kissed my cheek, making me feel that somehow, everything would be okay.

***

“Mr. Telford?”

I looked up from a magazine and Chibs jolted awake. We looked up to see a man in pea green scrubs in the doorway. Chibs stood to his feet. I closed the shitty gardening magazine and quickly followed.

“I’m Dr. Holden. I performed the surgery of Mr. Ortiz,” he said, offering his hand.

Chibs gave it a half-hearted shake.

“How is he? Is he okay?” he asked.

“Mr. Ortiz came through. He’s in recovery right now, but he’ll be moved to his room soon. There were several complications. The lacerations to his stomach were severe and there was extensive organ damage. The bullet to he chest missed his lungs and heart. There is some muscle damage, but nothing as extreme as the abdominal injuries. Right now, that’s what we’re worried about. He’s stable at the moment, but it is going to take one, maybe two more operations to repair everything, and he’s currently not strong enough to go through with those. The only thing we can do for him now is keep him comfortable and wait for his vitals to rise,” he explained.

Chibs and I nodded.

“When he’s moved, can we go see him?” I asked.

The doctor smiled.

“Of course. I will have a nurse come by when he’s out of recovery,” he replied.

We thanked him and he left.

“I’ll call Tig. Get him up to speed,” I said.

Chibs nodded.

“‘Kay.”

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket, but before I could open it to call, it rang, Tig’s name showing up on the screen. I smiled and answered.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey. Any news on Juice?” he asked.

“Yeah, he’s in recovery, but he’s still in the red. Doctor says they have to wait until he gets stronger before they can go back in and fix the rest of his guts. He’s pretty fucked up,” I replied.

“Jesus. Are you guys still there?” he asked.

“Yeah. They’re going to let us go see him as soon as he’s out of recovery.”

“Okay, listen. I need your help. Do NOT tell Chibs,” he said.

I looked to see Chibs open a bottle of water he had picked up earlier and take a drink.

“Sure,” I replied.

“The guys are on a run. We haven’t found anything yet, so I decided to come to Juice’s place. Hunt for clues. As soon as I pulled up, here comes Sheriff Slut,” he said.

“Shit, man! We um, we encountered that issue as well,” I said, trying to word my answers so Chibs wouldn’t pick up on what I was talking about.

“Can you split? I need you for backup,” he said.

“Sure, I’m on my way.”

“Thanks, baby girl. And hurry.”

“Got it.”

With that, I hung up and went after my cut. Chibs was watching me, concerned.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked.

“Tig needs me to come help him out. Cop shit,” I replied as I pulled the heavy leather over my shoulders.

Chibs nodded. I walked up to him.

“Stay here. Go see Juice. I’ll meet you later.”

He nodded.

“‘Kay. Ride safe.”

I smiled at him.

“I will,” I said and pecked his lips before walking to the door.

“Love you.”

“Love you, too, sweetheart,” he called after me.

With that, I quickly walked down the hall to the elevator, hoping I remembered how to even find Juice’s place, and ready to set Althea in her place if I had to.

***

When I pulled up to Juice’s house, a San Joaquin police cruiser was sitting in the driveway, and Tig’s Dyna was parked across the street. I pulled up against the curb and removed my helmet. The front door was open, and inside I could hear Tig raising his voice.

“Do you even have a permit for this?” Tig snapped.

I smiled and put my helmet on the tank. Sounded like he had a hold of this.

“I cannot have this right now. I am trying to do my job. The neighbors witnessed someone breaking and entering,” I heard Althea snap.

I walked up through the yard and onto the porch. I could see Tig inside, his back to me, hands on his hips.

“Then by all means, do your job,” Tig said sarcastically.

I walked inside and around Tig. Althea shuddered when she saw me.

“Hey, Tigger.”

“Hey, darlin’,” he said.

I met Althea’s eyes, but said nothing as I walked through the living room.

“Hey, wait a minute!” she called after me.

“Nuh uh uh. I wouldn’t do that,” Tig warned her.

“Excuse me? This is a crime scene! I can’t have members of SAMCRO just waltzing in here,” she declared, officially pissed.

She really was trying to do her job, and I couldn’t blame her, but I was also trying to do my job.

“We’re just here to pick up some stuff for our brother, and we’ll be gone,” Tig said, “Just give us a moment.”

I turned and walked down the hall, scanning everywhere for any clues. Someone had tried to get in, which made me wonder if they were after Sons, or simply after Juice and RJ. Maybe just one of the two.

“Fine, but make it quick,” I heard Althea say.

I checked the bedrooms, coming up with nothing. Juice’s house was immaculate, and I assumed I could blame that on his OCD, but still. I was jealous.  
After checking the bedrooms and bathrooms, finding nothing, or even anything overturned, I grabbed a stack of random clothes and returned to the living room. Tig was standing nearby, waiting for me. Althea and one of her deputies were waiting by the door.

“Anything?” Tig whispered as I handed him the clothes.

I shook my head.

“Well, maybe we should check the kitchen,” he said, then looked over his shoulder, “I think he left his phone charger in there.”

I nodded, getting the hint, and walked through the living room and into the kitchen. This room, just like every other room, was clean. Nothing out of place. That is, until I saw the refrigerator door, and my heart stopped. I had to blink a few times to make sure what I was looking at was real. When I was sure, I cursed under my breath and slipped back into the doorway, where Tig was keeping a look out.

“Tiggy!” I hissed.

He looked from the cops to me. I waved him over. Tig tucked the clothes under his arm and entered the kitchen. He spotted it before I could point.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

On the refrigerator doors was “STRIKE 2 SAMCRO” smeared in what looked to be blood.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed out, bending at the knees to look.

“One more minute!” Althea called from the front.

Tig and I looked back and I growled. Bitch.

“Callie, check and see if it fell behind the toaster,” Tig said.

I smiled.

“‘Kay,” I replied, not moving.

Tig took his cell phone out of his pocket and took a picture of the doors.

“Where did the blood come from is the question,” he said quietly.

I put my hands on my hips.

“Maybe it’s fake? To freak us out? Anyone and everyone has a gallon or two of prop blood in the basements for Halloween,” I replied.

Tig nodded in agreement.

“Keep a look out,” he whispered.

I nodded and moved into the doorway, peeking out to see the cops’ backs to us. Tig went over to the sink and grabbed a dish towel, wet it a little, and pumped some soap on it.

“Good ol’ Juice. Always having antibacterial shit laying around,” he said.

I smiled at that. Tig quickly wiped the blood from the fridge, cleaning off all evidence of red before tossing the towel into the trashcan under the sink.

“Goddammit! It was under the table!” Tig spat.

I tried not to laugh.

“Got it?” I asked.

“Yeah. Let’s go take this stuff to him,” he said.

With that, we walked back through the living room. I didn’t even look at Althea as I walked out. Tig gave her a sarcastic thank-you before walking me to my bike.

“This isn’t good, Cal,” he said.

I cast a sideways glance to the house.

“What are we going to do?” I asked.

Tig passed me the clothes.

“Put this stuff in your saddlebag, then I’ll follow you up to Chibby’s to get some of your things so we can lockdown at the clubhouse. Absolutely no one rides alone,” he said.

I nodded and put the clothes away.

“I’ll call Chibs. See what he’ll need and catch him up,” I said.

Tig clapped a hand on my shoulder. I mounted my bike and reached into my pocket for my phone. Chibs answered after the second ring.

“Hey, darlin’,” he said.

“Hey. We got a problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of length. More on the way! Thanks for reading!


	31. Know Your Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofread and edited.

Everyone met at the clubhouse by nightfall. Álvarez was warned to keep a look out for trouble, and production at Red Woody was halted until further notice. The remaining club members, Venus and Brooke, as well as Lyla, Chucky and a smattering of Crow Eaters were to stay at the clubhouse. There were was plenty of room, but members had first dibs on the apartments. Chibs and I grabbed the only apartment with an en suite bathroom before Tig could call it.  
Chibs arrived before Tig and I. I had packed a bag for both of us with, hopefully, enough clothes to last a week. In any case, it’d have to do.  
  
“I just grabbed whatever matched,” I told him as I set the duffel bags on the bed.  
  
“That’s alright, darlin’,” Chibs replied from the doorway.  
  
I looked up at him and frowned. He had his hands in his front pockets, head leaning against the doorjamb, his once rested face now showing severe signs of stress and exhaustion. I sighed and moved the bags to the floor. I turned to him and held my hand out.  
  
“Come here, sweetheart,” I said.  
  
He pushed himself off of the frame and shuffled over. I sat on the bed and he sat down beside me, turned over, and laid his head in his lap. I combed my fingers through his hair and held his shoulder.  
  
“Did you see Juice?” I asked softly.  
  
I stroked his forehead. I knew if I kept doing so, he would most likely fall asleep, as tired as he was.  
  
“No,” he said gruffly, “They’re keeping him in the ICU until mornin’.”  
  
I sighed and stroked his cheek.  
  
“Was he doing any better?” I asked.  
  
He shrugged.  
  
“They said they’d call if things changed,” he replied.  
  
I nodded.  
  
Tig appeared in the doorway, knocking softly.  
  
“Sorry. I just wanted to let you know what happened earlier,” he said.  
  
Chibs waved him in, but made no effort to move. Tig stepped inside and shut the door.  
  
“What went down?” Chibs asked.  
  
Tig pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.  
  
“I went to Juice’s place. Last resort, you know? Our trails kept coming up cold. Won’t be able to figure anything out until we talk to Juice. I thought I’d go to his place. Double-check. As soon as I arrived, Jarry pulled up.”  
  
Chibs gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, as if he were in pain.  
  
“That nosy gash.”  
  
“Well, apparently, the neighbors saw some guys trying to break in and they called. So, I called Callie for backup. Jarry didn’t like it, but she let us in. We told her we were picking up some clothes and shit. Cal found this in the kitchen,” Tig said, handing his phone to Chibs.  
  
He took it and sat up, squinting at the small screen.  
  
“Is that blood?” he asked.  
  
“Might have been fake blood. We weren’t sure,” I replied.  
  
Chibs reached into a pocket inside of his cut and pulled his glasses out, placing them over his eyes to see the small letters.  
  
“What does that even say? ‘Strike…2?’”  
  
“'Strike 2 SAMCRO,'” I said.  
  
Chibs looked up at me in horror, then removed his glasses and looked up at Tig.  
  
“We wiped it clean before the cops could find it. The rest of the house is clear,” Tig said.  
  
Chibs handed the phone back.  
  
“‘Kay. Bring everyone to the table,” he ordered.  
  
Tig nodded and turned on his heel to leave. Once gone, Chibs turned to me, looking defeated.  
  
“I have no idea how to fix this, Callie,” he said.  
  
I took his arm.  
  
“We’ll find a way. All of us. You’re not carrying this weight on your own,” I said.  
  
“If this is retaliation, RJ’s death is on me!” he snapped.  
  
I took his face in my hands.  
  
“We voted it, baby. It’s a club issue. No one saw this coming, and it could very well not be the XMC. Right now, we just need to find out who and go from there,” I said.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“Aye,” he agreed.  
  
He turned to me and pecked my lips before taking my hand.  
  
“Come on, love.”  
  
He smiled tiredly and I took his hand and walked with him to chapel.  
  
After we were seated and the picture was passed around, we began to discuss our next move.  
  
“There were no witnesses?” Chibs asked.  
  
“Nothing,” Happy replied, “No one except the guy who found him. Some guy who worked at the power plant in Stockton. Said he wasn’t sure when the crash happened, but he was leaving for work and he found them around four in the morning.”  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“What about the neighbors who saw the break in?” he asked.  
  
Tig shrugged.  
  
“Didn’t get a chance to talk to them. I’m sure Jarry already has, and after speaking with her, they’re sure as shit not going to give us anything,” he said.  
  
“Nah. Our only hope for answers is to talk to Juice. Otherwise, we’ll have to talk to the cops,” Happy said.  
  
“And I’m sure they’ll come crawling,” Rat said bitterly.  
  
Chibs lit a cigarette.  
  
“Well I ain’t talkin’ to no fuckin’ cops!” he spat out.  
  
“May have to, brother,” Tig replied calmly, “‘Cause if we can’t get to Juice, they’re the only ones with any answers.”  
  
Chibs sighed.  
  
“If they find who did this first, then there is no hope for retaliation,” he said.  
  
“We could intercept the cops and kill them,” Tig said with a shrug.  
  
Chibs cut his eyes at him.  
  
“If it’s the XMC, we have bigger things to worry about. I’m not makin’ the mistake Jackie Boy made. We have to remain low key,” he said.  
  
“What if it’s not the XMC?” Rat asked.  
  
I looked up at Rat. Chibs shook his head.  
  
“We’ll have to wait. I’m goin’ to the hospital first thing in the mornin’. The rest of ya stay here, and if ya need to leave, then under no circumstances do ya ride alone,” he said strictly.  
  
The table nodded.  
  
“And no one talk to the cops until I’ve spoken with Juice,” he finished.  
  
“Absolutely,” Rane said.  
  
“Yeah. Loud and clear,” Tig agreed.  
  
Chibs nodded and slammed the gavel down.  
  
“Bed time,” he said.  
  
Of course, none of us could even think about sleep. I walked back to the apartment to change, and Chibs followed me inside. When I returned from the bathroom, he was sitting at the foot of the bed with his hands clasped together, staring absently at the dresser across the room. I crawled up on my knees beside him, wrapped my arms around his shoulders and kissed the side of his head. He kissed my arm as I buried my face in his hair.  
  
“Ya ready for bed?” he asked.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
“No. I couldn’t sleep now,” I replied.  
  
Chibs turned in my arms to face me.  
  
“How about a drink, then?” he asked, smiling tiredly.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Sounds like a plan,” I said.  
  
Chibs’ smile broadened and we walked back out to the bar, drowning ourselves just enough to be able to laugh and get some much needed sleep.  
  
***  
  
I awoke to the sound of pots and pans, people, and just noise. It was the first indicator to remind me I was not at home. The incredible amount of pain in my back was the second. This was not the comfortable mattress of our bed, and when I opened my eyes, I was greeted with brown walls instead of the warm, bright colors that made waking up in that bedroom so peaceful. No, we were still on lockdown, and I was still in the apartment.  
I groaned and rolled onto my back, my muscles complaining and my head threatening to pound harder than it was. I was positive that I wasn’t hungover, and that it was my neck. This bed sucked. That was just the bottom line.  
I turned my head, expecting Chibs to be at my side, but I found the bed empty, save for a piece of paper on his pillow. I picked it up and squinted, the bright white of the note being too much for this early hour.  
  
“ _Thought I’d let you sleep. Quinn and I ran to see Juice. Be back in a few hours. Love you, Chibs._.”  
  
I sighed and let the paper fall from my fingers. I rubbed my face and popped my toes and neck before swinging my legs over the bed. I found the duffel full of my things, grabbed a change of clothes and my toiletry bag before going to the bathroom to change.  
Out in the lounge, everyone was eating breakfast, Chucky waiting on everyone with a pot of coffee. I smiled at him as I passed by and walked up to the bar to find Brooke at it, her head in her hands. Tig was behind the bar and Venus at Brooke's side. Tig looked up at me and smiled.  
  
“Whatcha got, baby girl?” he asked.  
  
I looked down in my hand to the bottle of pills.  
  
“Ibuprofen,” I replied.  
  
Tig laughed.  
  
“Hungover?”  
  
I shook my head.  
  
“That bed fucking sucks,” I replied.  
  
I climbed up on top of the bar and sat on it. Venus was wiping a washcloth over Brooke’s face.  
  
“Morning sickness?” I asked.  
  
“Oh yeah,” he replied, “Rat was up all night with her.”  
  
I cringed. I felt sorry for her, but she seemed to be a trooper. I popped a few pills and swallowed as Rat entered. He looked exhausted.  
  
“Hey, Rat,” I said.  
  
He smiled tiredly.  
  
“Hey,” he replied, “Um, Chibs told me to tell you he and Quinn went to St. Thomas.”  
  
I nodded.  
  
“I know,” I replied, “He left a note.”  
  
Rat nodded.  
  
Suddenly, Brooke shot up from the bar and dove into the office, Venus following close behind her. Brooke grabbed a trashcan and proceeded to bury her face in it. We cringed, and everyone was looking at us.  
  
“She’s just pregnant,” Tig called.  
  
Everyone just sort of nodded and went back to their food, appetites gone. I touched Rat’s arm.  
  
“You wanna get out of here for a while? Go to St. Thomas with me?” I asked.  
  
Rat nodded.  
  
“Absolutely,” he said, relieved.  
  
I hopped down from the bar.  
  
“I’m leaving with Rat, Pop!” I said to Tig.  
  
“‘Kay, darlin’.”  
  
“He better not be leaving!” Brooke shouted.  
  
Rat nudged my arm.  
  
“Run!”  
  
I laughed, and we ran back to my room so I could grab my cut and gear. Then, we jogged back through the clubhouse.  
  
“Bye, babe! Love you!” Rat called.  
  
Brooke appeared out of the office.  
  
“Rat!” she screamed, but we were gone.  
  
We ran across the lot to our bikes and quickly started the engines.  
  
“You think she’ll be okay?” he asked.  
  
I pushed the shield of my helmet up.  
  
“Rat, you have seven more months of this. Enjoy your breather,” I said.  
  
Rat smiled and nodded. I closed my helmet and pushed off, Rat following close behind.  
  
At the hospital, Rat and I had no idea where to go.  
  
“Should we call Chibs? I saw his bike outside,” I said.  
  
Rat shook his head.  
  
“Chances are we’re already in trouble,” he said.  
  
I shrugged. Rat looked at the front desk.  
  
“Come on,” he said.  
  
I quickly followed behind. He approached the desk and leaned against it casually.  
  
“Good morning,” the woman behind the desk, who looked more like a little old librarian than hospital staff.  
  
Rat smiled at her.  
  
“Morning. My sister and I are looking for our brother. He was admitted yesterday morning,” he said.  
  
I smiled at that. If any of us looked related, it would have to me and Rat, because Juice’s Puerto Rican heritage was painfully obvious. Neither Rat nor I looked remotely alike. We were just close enough in age, and the right color.  
  
“Okay, sweetie. What’s the name of the patient?” the woman asked.  
  
“Juan Carlos Ortiz,” Rat replied.  
  
The receptionist typed in a few things before she found us an answer.  
  
“Mr. Ortiz is in room 204. Are you all family? I had another couple of men come in asking, and the only one on the list of family was a Mr. Telford,” she said.  
  
I shrugged.  
  
“That’s my Old Man,” I said, a hint of pride in my voice.  
  
The woman looked a little wary, but nodded.  
  
“Oh, um, okay. Well, Mr. Ortiz is in 204,” she said.  
  
We thanked her and began to walk towards the elevators when I spotted the gift shop and a light bulb lit up in my head.  
  
“Hang on. I wanna get Juicey boy some flowers,” I said.  
  
Rat snorted.  
  
“You’ll think he’ll care?” he asked.  
  
I smiled at him over my shoulder.  
  
“It’s the thought that counts, my dear Ratboy,” I said.  
  
Rat smiled and followed me inside the gift shop. I bought Juice a vase full of get well flowers, which were a mix of bright purple, fuchsia, and yellow, then Rat and I took an elevator ride to his floor. Rat cast his eyes to the mirrored ceiling.  
  
“If no one else gets hurt, I’ll be back here with my wife about to squeeze out a kid,” he grumbled.  
  
I smiled up at him.  
  
“When’s the wedding?” I asked.  
  
He shrugged.  
  
“As soon as the morning sickness stops,” he replied.  
  
“You know it could last throughout the entire thing, right?” I asked.  
  
Rat just groaned, then turned his back to me and pointed to the back of his head.  
  
“Just do it. Take me out now,” he said.  
  
I laughed and shook my head. The doors opened, and Rat and I exited and looked around before figuring out the direction we needed to go. We moved down a quiet hallway, finding Juice’s room just around a corner. I peered inside to see Juice’s feet, but I didn’t see Chibs or Rane.  
  
“Well, they must be around,” I said.  
  
“Probably went for a coffee run,” he replied.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“‘Kay. I’ll go in. Keep a look out,” I said.  
  
He nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. I opened the door and peered in. Juice was asleep, so I walked inside and set his flowers on a table, then walked around to his right side. He looked awful. His skin was pale, lips chapped, dark circles around his eyes. I guess no one looks good after they get shot.  
I sighed and took his hand. It twitched beneath mine, and his eyes slowly peeled open. I smiled at him.  
  
“Hey, Juicey,” I said softly.  
  
Juice’s eyes rolled, his abused body trying to make sense of everything. When he was able to focus on me, a small smile crossed his lips.  
  
“Cal,” he whispered.  
  
I smiled and leaned down to kiss his forehead. He only had enough strength to weakly hold my hand, so I made a mental note to make this short.  
  
“How are you feeling?” I asked.  
  
He just shook his head.  
  
“Shit,” he replied.  
  
I frowned and sat on the edge of the bed.  
  
“We were so worried about you. I’m glad you’re okay,” I said.  
  
He nodded.  
  
“RJ’s dead,” he whispered.  
  
I nodded and squeezed his hand.  
  
“I know.”  
  
Juice seemed to have difficulty swallowing.  
  
“He was brave,” he whispered.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Yeah. He’ll get a proper farewell,” I assured him.  
  
Juice nodded, his eyes closing.  
  
“Can you tell me what happened, Juice?” I asked.  
  
Juice opened his eyes.  
  
“Two guys. Cut us off,” he said weakly, “I didn’t see much. No faces. One shot RJ, then they shot me.”  
  
I nodded.  
  
“They were riding. Tattoos. Not the XMC,” he said.  
  
I felt my shoulders drop. Shit!  
  
“That’s all I remember. Sorry,” he whispered.  
  
I nodded and cupped my free hand over his.  
  
“It’s okay. That helps a lot, believe it or not,” I said.  
  
He nodded sadly.  
  
“What’s the damage…to me?”  
  
I rubbed the back of his hand.  
  
“Well, you have a pretty innocent gunshot wound. Nothing major. Last I heard, your guts were pretty scrambled, and they’re planning on another operation when you’re stronger,” I replied.  
  
He nodded.  
  
“Where did Chibs go?” he asked, casting a glance to the chair by the bed.  
  
I shrugged.  
  
“I just got here. He’s probably getting some coffee. He’ll be back.”  
  
“I fell asleep while he was talking,” he whispered.  
  
I smiled and squeezed his hand.  
  
“I’m sure he doesn’t mind,” I said.  
  
Juice smiled a little, but his smile gave way to a shaking bottom lip.  
  
“I don’t wanna die, Cal,” he said.  
  
I narrowed my eyes at him.  
  
“Juicey, you’re not gonna die,” I said, “Why? What did the doctor say?”  
  
Juice shook his head.  
  
“I contemplated suicide many times. Tried it a couple. I never wanted to go like this. Life was just getting better,” he said, his eyes watering.  
  
I stared at him in surprise.  
  
“Juice, no! You’re going to be fine. It’s going to take time, but you’re going to be just fine,” I said.  
  
Juice shook his head.  
  
“I have a feeling my time is up,” he whispered.  
  
Tears spilled down his face and his nose began to run. I let go of his hand and grabbed a few tissues from a nearby Kleenex box. I wiped his nose with one and his cheeks with another.  
  
“Juice, they have you so drugged up. You’re not going to die. You’re just very well medicated,” I said.  
  
I tossed the tissues into a trashcan I found in the bathroom and returned to his side.  
  
“Can you do me a favor, Cal?” Juice asked weakly.  
  
I nodded and took his hand. Juice struggled to swallow and his eyes watered, fat tears spilling down his cheeks.  
  
“Kiss me,” he whispered so softly I almost didn’t realize what was said.  
  
“What?” I asked in disbelief.  
  
“You don’t have to mean it,” Juice said, “Just…please?”  
  
I sat down on the edge of the mattress and studied his face. I knew this was the drugs talking, but Juice’s large brown eyes were glassy and dull—all hope drained. I had never seen him look so sad, so…decrepit. He truly believed he was done for, and I understood why he asked the favor. It’s what I would want if I knew my time was up. I would want the person I loved to kiss me. Hug me. Hold my hand. Anything, so long as that person was showing some gesture of love.  
I leaned over and stroked Juice’s wet cheek. He barely had the strength to hold his eyes open, but he used what was left of his energy for this. I held his cheek and moved in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. I felt his hot tears hit my cheek, and I could feel my heart wanting to crumble. He had no energy to kiss back, even though I didn’t expect him to. I parted from him, and he smiled.  
  
“Thank-you,” he whispered, “I love you, Cal.”  
  
I smiled, my own eyes on the verge of tearing up.  
  
“I love you, too, Juicey,” I said, and kissed his forehead.  
  
The kiss, of course, meant nothing, but I truly loved my brother, and as his eyes fell closed, and out of a spurt of paranoia and checking the heart monitor, I hoped that he was wrong. It may take a year or more, but I held onto a sliver of faith that he would be able to ride again. I couldn’t Scout for the club without my brother.  
There was a knock on the door, and Rat opened up and poked his head in.  
  
“Hey. Chibs is coming down the hall.”  
  
I nodded and looked back at Juice once more before leaving. In the hall, Chibs and Rane were approaching. Chibs looked surprised to see us, and I wished I had thrown at least a text his way. Locked down, with apparently two guys coming after us, it wasn’t a good idea to not let him know where I was.  
  
“Hey,” I said.  
  
He didn’t look pissed, but in fact, happy to see us.  
  
“Hey, darlin’. Rat,” he said.  
  
Rat nodded to him. Chibs, who was holding a cup of coffee, as we had guessed, hugged me with his free arm and placed a soft kiss on my lips.  
  
“What are ya doin’ here?” he asked, “Thought you’d hang back and get some sleep.”  
  
I shrugged.  
  
“Had to get out of there,” I replied.  
  
“Yeah, same here,” Rat agreed.  
  
I gave him a sympathetic smile.  
  
“I just wanted to come see how Juice was doing,” I said.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“Ya talk to him?” he asked.  
  
“Yeah. I asked him about what happened the other night, and he doesn’t remember much, but he remembered two guys on bikes, sporting tattoos. Not a profile that matches our friends in the XMC.”  
  
Chibs sighed.  
  
“Shit. Well, that narrows it down a bit,” he said, looking down at the floor in thought.  
  
I nodded in agreement.  
  
“Keeps us out of the crosshairs,” Rane said.  
  
“Aye. Well, I just spoke with his doctor. He said they had a scare and had to put him in ICU, but his vitals have since been risin’. Slowly, but they’re climbin’. Said they’re hopin’ they’ll improve quicker and they’ll be able to get him back into the O.R. Finish the job.”  
  
I nodded and let out a breath of relief.  
  
“Well, I wish Juice felt that way. He has it in his head that he’s going to die,” I said.  
  
Chibs smiled.  
  
“Meh. That’s just the drugs talkin’. When I got blown up, I thought I was gonna die, too. The boy’ll be alright.”  
  
I smiled and nodded in agreement. Juice was relatively healthy, regardless. He’d be fine.  
  
“Did you want to go in and talk to him?” I asked.  
  
Chibs shook his head.  
  
“Nah. Was gonna, but he needs his rest. I spoke to him a little bit earlier, anyway. We should probably head back to the clubhouse,” he replied.  
  
“You want one of us to stay here, Prez?” Rane asked, “I could take the morning shift.”  
  
Chibs looked up at him and nodded.  
  
“Yeah. I’ll get Montez to do the afternoon shift. Thank-you,” he replied, and clapped a hand on Rane’s chest.  
  
Rane nodded. Chibs took my hand.  
  
“Let’s go,” he said.  
  
Rat walked over, and we began to turn and leave when Chibs looked inside of Juice’s room and stopped.  
  
“Who brought the flowers?” he asked.  
  
I smiled meekly.  
  
“Callie did,” Rat said.  
  
Chibs looked down at me and smirked. I shrugged.  
  
“Thought he could use something pretty to look at,” I replied.  
  
Chibs smiled and pulled me closer to kiss my forehead.  
  
“Sweet girl.”  
  
***  
  
Chibs and I found ourselves outside that night on the roof of the clubhouse. It was cool tonight, but I had brought a blanket up, and curled up in a ball next to Chibs, the wind didn’t bother me.  
We were laying on the gradual slope of the roof, star-gazing and sharing a smoke.  
  
“We have RJ’s funeral arrangements made. Decided cremation was best,” he said.  
  
I nodded. I had really hoped we’d be able to keep him.  
  
“How long will lockdown last?” I asked.  
  
He took a drag off of his cigarette, depleting it and flicking it overboard.  
  
“Not long. Probably be over tomorrow. We can’t keep everyone here. Besides, Rat and Brooke need to be home,” he replied.  
  
I sighed and buried myself against him.  
  
“Yeah. I’m ready to be back home. In my own bed,” I said.  
  
Chibs smiled at me.  
  
“I like where this is goin’,” he said lowly.  
  
I smiled and kissed his cheek, running my hand across his chest. He turned and coaxed my head up. His lips pressed lightly to mine before deepening. I stroked his cheek as he traveled to my cheek and attempted to go after my neck when his phone rang. I groaned and we parted so he could answer.  
  
“Always,” I said.  
  
Chibs chuckled and looked at his phone.  
  
“It’s just Tiggy,” he said, then flipped his phone open to answer, “Hey…no shit!”  
  
I inwardly cringed. I didn’t like the sound of that.  
  
Chibs sat up, and I in turn, sat up with him.  
  
“Where?” he asked.  
  
He looked towards the gate and craned his neck to see.  
  
“Oh, I see it now…Yeah, probably.”  
  
I looked at the gate and could see the top of a vehicle outside.  
  
“…No,” he said, then looked to me and grinned this shit-eating grin.  
  
“What?” I asked.  
  
Chibs laughed at something Tig said.  
  
“Let her in. She may have answers anyway…Yeah, it’s fine…’Kay,” he said and hung up.  
  
A moment later, the gate opened and a vaguely familiar gray SUV pulled in.  
  
“Is…is that Althea?” I asked.  
  
He nodded.  
  
“I thought about shooin’ her off, but it looks like she ain’t here on business,” he said.  
  
I watched as she pulled up in front of our bikes and shut the engine off. I gritted my teeth.  
  
“Why don’t ya go down there and set her in her place?” he asked.  
  
I turned and looked at him in surprise.  
  
“Seriously?” I asked.  
  
He grinned.  
  
“Just don’t kill her, and whatever blood ya spill, you’re responsible for it,” he said.  
  
I smiled and excitedly hopped up.  
  
“Absolutely,” I said.  
  
I kissed his cheek and was about to head down when he grabbed my arm.  
  
“Wait a sec,” he said.  
  
I froze in my spot. He reached up and unbuttoned several buttons of my flannel, enough to see most of my bra. When I realized what he was up to, I felt my jaw drop. He just smiled innocently.  
  
“You’re a shithead,” I said.  
  
“And proud of it,” he said, then laid a rough kiss on my lips to turn them red, “Play nice.”  
  
I laughed and turned to go down the ladder and hoped no one was in the hall to see me and what looked like an interrupted moment on the clubhouse roof. Luckily, the hall was empty, and as I touched ground, I could hear Tig and Althea’s voice carrying through the hall.  
  
“What the hell are you here for, anyway?” Tig asked.  
  
I strolled through the hall and before I emerged, I began to button my shirt back up. Althea caught me buttoning the last of the buttons, and she looked away for a second.  
  
“You know,” I said loudly.  
  
Tig and Rat, who were behind the bar, turned to look at me.  
  
“Oh shit,” Tig said.  
  
“I’m a little confused as well,” I finished.  
  
I walked right up to her and propped an arm on Tig’s shoulder. Althea watched my every move with wide, almost frightened eyes. I had never uttered a word to her, and I’m sure I made her nervous. However, this woman was several inches taller than me, and it was I who should be nervous.  
  
“You see, if you were here on business, you’d be driving the Charger, and you would be in uniform and not informal wear, which means you’re here for personal business,” she said.  
  
She pursed her lips.  
  
“I’m just here to speak with Fil—well, I guess all of you know him as Chibs,” she said.  
  
“Well, he’s busy,” I said shortly.  
  
She took a deep breath, calculating her moves.  
  
“Yeah!” Tig said, chiming in like a little kid.  
  
I looked down to hide my amusement.  
  
“You’re wearing no badge, no uniform, no gun, even. And I certainly don’t see a warrant, so you have absolutely no business here. Now, leave before I call the cops on you for trespassing on private property.”  
  
Althea scoffed.  
  
“They let me through the gate. I would hardly consider this trespassing!” she replied.  
  
“Well, don’t let it hit you on the way out,” I bit back.  
  
Althea’s nostrils flared in anger and she crossed her arms.  
  
“You know what? I’m really getting sick of your attitude,” she said lowly.  
  
I felt my back straighten and I narrowed my eyes at her.  
  
“And I’m really getting sick of you nosing around in our shit!” I snarled.  
  
“I am trying to do my job and get information on Ortiz,” she argued.  
  
“Then I suggest you drop by with a badge,” I said lowly.  
  
Althea took a deep breath.  
  
“I’m here off duty because I know how all of this works. Now, I need to speak to your President.”  
  
“You’re on our turf, for one. You don’t get to call the shots unless you have legal consent, and obviously, you don’t. If this truly is about Juice, you can tell us,” I said.  
  
Tig agreed.  
  
“We’ll get the message to him,” he assured her.  
  
Which, if she really was here in uniform, we would. Anything she had on Juice, regardless of how much of a pain in the ass she was being, was always welcome. I wouldn’t give her such a hard time, as we all are trying to do our jobs, but after the stunt she pulled at Jax’s funeral, she lost what little respect I’d have for her as a cop.  
Althea sighed.  
  
“Listen. I know you guys are protecting him. I get it—“  
  
“No, you don’t!” I interrupted.  
  
Althea’s eyes widened in surprise.  
  
“Honey,” I pulled my shirt down to show her the healing crow inked into my chest.  
  
If she truly understood how this worked, she would know what it meant. Besides, the Celtic knots gave it away that it was the crow of Filip Telford.  
  
“He’s my Old Man. It is my job to protect him!”  
  
Althea’s lip curled.  
  
“So you’re seriously not going to let me talk to him about the hit and run?”  
  
“If you have something we’re not aware of, you better tell us now before I let my daughter bounce your face off the floor,” Tig growled.  
  
Althea looked surprised.  
  
“Daughter?” she asked.  
  
“Or would you rather have my Old Lady come back and let you have it?” Tig asked.  
  
Althea’s eyes widened. She knew exactly who he was talking about.  
  
“And don’t you dare make some snide comment about her or I will rip your throat out,” I growled.  
  
Althea shot me a look before another voice interrupted us.  
  
“Easy, my love.”  
  
I looked over my shoulder to see Chibs in the mouth of the hall, leaning against the wall with his arm crossed over his chest. I smiled and looked back at Althea, who looked scared shitless.  
  
“I need to speak with you, Filip. Will you please ask them to step off?” she asked.  
  
Chibs smirked.  
  
“What did you say to piss off my Old Lady?” he asked.  
  
I could just see the steam coming out of her ears.  
  
“They’re threatening to hurt me,” she replied.  
  
“Whine, whine, whine!” Tig sang.  
  
Althea scoffed at him.  
  
“So?” Chibs asked, uncaring.  
  
Althea shook her head.  
  
“What? You’re just going to let them? What if I press charges for assault?” she threatened.  
  
“Aye, but ya won’t, because if ya do, I’ll fulfill that promise I made ya,” he said dangerously.  
  
She set her jaw.  
  
“Look,” she said.  
  
She tried to move around me and cross the floor to Chibs, but I grabbed her arm.  
  
“Hey!” I shouted.  
  
Althea spun around and backhanded me across the face, knocking back into Tig. Tig grabbed me.  
  
“What the hell?” he shouted.  
  
I broke away from Tig and smashed my fist into her stomach. She cried out and tried to grab at me. I moved around her, grabbed a fistful of her hair, then threw her into the bar and smashed her face into the wood. Althea screamed as I threw her to the floor. Tig was laughing.  
  
“Told you so!”  
  
Althea rolled onto her back and grabbed her face, feeling her mouth.  
  
“You knocked a tooth out,” she said.  
  
I smiled and leaned over her.  
  
“That’s what happens when you-“  
  
I didn’t have a chance to get another word in before she drove a shoe right into my stomach and bolted. I grabbed my stomach in pain, but pushed through it before she could get away. I grabbed a broom as she rounded a corner and cracked it across the back of her leg, making her fall to her knees. I kicked her in the kidneys to get her down, then pounced her.  
  
“Don’t! You! Ever! Attack Me! You Bitch!” I screamed between punches.  
  
Althea was able to get one punch into my ribs, side opposite of where she had kicked me. I was ready to drive a knife through her throat.  
  
“Chibs! It’s getting nasty!” Tig called.  
  
I heard Chibs call for Happy and felt a pair of arms grab my waist and yank me up.  
  
“That’s good, baby girl. Come on,” Tig said.  
  
He pulled me to my feet and passed me to Chibs. Happy walked in, got one look at Althea and burst out laughing.  
  
“Goddamn!” he laughed.  
  
Chibs worriedly took my face in his hands.  
  
“Are ya okay?” he asked.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“I’m whole.”  
  
Chibs sighed in relief and hugged me.  
  
“Good. Happy, get this bitch out of here,” he said.  
  
“You got it,” Happy replied.  
  
He and Tig pulled Althea up to her feet.  
  
“Don’t ya ever think about layin’ a hand on her again. And don’t come back here,” Chibs said, cradling the back of my head.  
  
Althea spat blood on the floor.  
  
“Did you really have information on Juice?” Tig asked her.  
  
She sighed and shook her head.  
  
“No,” she said quietly.  
  
Chibs snarled.  
  
“Let’s go,” he said, then let go of me and stormed to the hall.  
  
I gave Tig a questioning look, but he waved me off.  
  
“Go. We’ll take care of her,” he said.  
  
I nodded and took off after Chibs. I found him in the apartment, standing on the far side of the room. He looked a little pissed.  
  
“Chibs, look. I’m sorry. I didn't mean for it to get—“  
  
My words were suddenly silenced as Chibs practically flew across the room and pinned me to the door, mouth latched on mine. I threw my arms around his neck as he drew his hands over my ass and under my thighs, lifting me. I locked my legs around his waist and he pressed into me, undoing the buttons of my shirt with one hand. He moved down to the sensitive spot on my neck, sending a rush of heat through me, and I gasped as I felt his arousal through our jeans.  
  
“Ya have nothin,” he moved to the other side of my neck, “to apologize for. Seein’ ya take care of that…”  
  
His words were lost as he roughly cupped one of my breasts and lightly bit down on my neck. So Count Filip does bite!  
Chibs pushed my shirt open and quickly locked the door. I threw it off and unzipped his jacket. He let it drop to the floor, and I ripped his shirt over his head before he could react. Once his chest was exposed, I ran my hands over him as he unhooked my bra. He nuzzled his nose against my forehead before capturing my mouth. I moaned as I felt the rough pad of his thumb graze over my breast, teasing the tip to hardness. My body flushed and I held him tighter, feeling my legs trembling. His lips engulfed mine, and his talented tongue invaded my mouth.  
Chibs held me to his chest, my own chest pressing against him. The stimulation he had administered caused me to gasp when I felt his skin against mine. He turned us away from the door, carried me to the bed, and laid me down. I watched him as he yanked at his SAMCRO belt buckle and shoved his jeans to the floor before removing mine. I sat up to get his boxers below his narrow hips, then decided that this wasn’t enough. With the adrenaline pumping from my cat fight with Althea, and how I he had sent me from 0 to 60 within a matter of seconds, he had unleashed the animal. I grabbed him, threw his ass down on the bed. He stared up at me in shock. I grinned and straddled his hips.  
  
“Let’s finish what we didn’t start on the roof.”  
  
Chibs grinned and pulled me down on top of him, reclaiming my mouth. He moaned and held my hips.  
  
“Wallet,” he mumbled between kisses.  
  
I understood, and quickly hopped down to grab his jeans to retrieve his wallet. No babies for us, thank you very much.  
After our little side distraction, I resumed my spot on top of him. Chibs brought my face back to his and kissed me hungrily. His hands grabbed my hips and swiftly flipped us back over. He arched his back and moved down to my chest, pressing loving and affectionate kisses to the crow and tracing the knots with his tongue. I closed my eyes and held the back of his head, entwining my fingers into his long hair. I let my eyes fluttered closed and a soft moan escaped my lips. His hands locked onto my breasts—a favorite place of his now. He’d tease and lick and nip and leave me so delirious it took all of me not to break down and beg.  
  
“Chibs,” I sighed, moving my hands down to his broad shoulders.  
  
“Yes, m’ love?”  
  
The bass of his voice vibrated against my skin, and the tenderness of his tone alone turned me on even more than I already was.  
‘Just fuck me already’ is what I wanted to say.  
  
“I think I should bully people more often,” I said breathlessly.  
  
Chibs chuckled and brought his head back.  
  
“Seein’ ya defend me? Protect me? Tha’s beautiful. I’ve never had anyone do what ya do for me. Besides, you’re sexy as hell when you’re breakin’ skulls.”  
  
I laughed and took his goatee and chin between my thumb and index finger and our lips crashed together once again.  
  
“This how it’s gonna be every time I drop-kick a cop?” I asked.  
  
Chibs smiled.  
  
“Sweetheart, I could love ya all day long. Doesn’t matter what brought it on,” he said.  
  
I smiled and he scooped me up into his arms and molded his lips against mine.  
  
“I love you, Callie.”  
  
I smiled and took his face in my hands.  
  
“I love you, too, Filip.”  
  
Chibs cupped my face and shifted. I put an arm around the back of his neck and gripped the Celtic cross tattooed on his shoulder. He dipped his head down to my neck and filled me completely. His teeth sunk into the tender spot on my neck. I breathed in deeply and exhaled with a long, loud, blissful moan. He moaned softly against my neck as I involuntarily gripped him, already anxious for what was to come. He ceased his biting and resorted to sucking and rolling his tongue against my neck. If I have a hickey, I swear to God…  
He pulled out almost completely before sinking back in, his hands roaming down my sides, memorizing the skin and I relaxed into the bed from the feel of his warm palms. He repeated this slow, agonizing pace before deciding he couldn’t stand it anymore. His movements became shorter and faster. I moaned softly, pleasure now beginning to build. Chibs raised himself up, keeping our legs tangled together and the pace steady as he took my hands, lacing our fingers together. I gazed up at him, watching his body move and trying to keep the inevitable moans from distracting me from watching him.  
His face was one of concentration. His body moved in rhythm against mine, squeezing my hands with each surge of pleasure, his hair falling in his eyes. I watched his pectoral muscles tense and relax beneath the tanned skin that stretched over his collarbones and over his shoulders. He leaned down and trailed his lips across my own shoulders and up my neck. I whimpered and clenched around him. Every movement—every thrust was beginning to send little tremors of white hot pleasure through me, and caused a small moan or whimper to come out of my mouth. I submitted completely, feeding off of his energy and taking in every soft sigh and heavy breath that came from his mouth.  
  
Chibs suddenly scooped me up, sitting back on his heels, bringing me up to straddle his lap. I couldn’t contain the loud gasp as he filled me, impaling me deeper. I gripped his shoulders tightly and he closed the space between our mouths. He held my hips as I began to move on top of him, not having to move much to feel like I was flying.  
  
“Chibs,” I sighed against his shoulder.  
  
He kissed my cheek and rose to meet my movements. I rocked faster, craving a sensory overload and gasping at the sudden and oddly enjoyable pleasure I felt from our hips grinding together. I tightened my arms around him and sunk my fingernails into his skin, not wanting to hurt him, but unable relax my hands. I knew I was close, and by his moans and grunt becoming louder, he wasn’t far behind.  
  
“Shit,” I hissed, fingers locking into the ends of his hair.  
  
“Darlin’,” Chibs said lovingly into my ear.  
  
I could feel my bad hip weaken and begin to shake. Chibs squeezed his hands around my legs and moved my hips, helping. He growled and my eyes rolled back. He buried his face in the crook of my neck and released my hips, wrapping his arms around me and kissing my shoulder. He bucked hard and I tumbled over the edge without warning. Blinding pleasure exploded through me, and I held him fast, another surge even stronger than the initial explosion causing me to cry out. Chibs shuddered and his muscles locked, furiously riding out his own climax and causing my aftershocks to become more intense. When it was over, I melted into his arms and he laid me back down. I curled in on myself, trying to catch my breath as I shook. Chibs kissed me softly.  
  
“Sweet girl,” he murmured.  
  
I hugged him to me and kissed his cheek.  
  
“Filip,” I breathed, my energy depleted.  
  
I closed my eyes and he pressed soft kisses to my eyelids. I opened my eyes to him smiling and caressing my face. I closed my eyes again and held him for a few minutes, catching my breath and maintaining my heart rate.  
When I calmed down, I reached for his wrist and kissed the phoenix tattooed inside. He smiled and ran a hand over my hair. I patted his chest.  
  
“Bathroom,” I said quietly.  
  
He smiled and let me go. I stood, grabbed a t-shirt from my duffel, and slipped into the bathroom. When I returned, Chibs was laying on his side facing me, the sheets only covering his waist. I accidentally hit the towel rack, and reached up quickly to catch a falling washcloth. As I did so, my shirt raised to show my lower stomach, and I heard Chibs gasp.  
  
“Callie, love, c’mere,” he said urgently.  
  
I turned the light in the bathroom out and walked over to the bed. He sat up and took my hips, lifting my shirt up. I looked down to see what was concerning him, and found an irregularly shaped purple spot.  
  
“Shit,” Chibs groaned, “I know that wasn’t from me.”  
  
I cringed. In our haste to rip each others clothes off, I had forgotten about the fight.  
  
“She hit ya in the stomach?” he asked.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Kicked me,” I replied.  
  
A pained look washed across his face. He took my hand and pulled me down to the bed. I crawled in beside him. He leaned down to kiss the bruise, then kissed the cheek Althea backhanded.  
  
“Darlin’, I am so sorry. These are on me.”  
  
“Filip, no,” I said, taking his face in my hands, “We didn’t know she’d flip shit. She caught me off guard, too. This isn’t your fault.”  
  
Chibs watched me with sad doe eyes. I took his hands and kissed his knuckles.  
  
“I promise ya, love, I will never let anyone hurt ya again,” he said.  
  
I smiled and squeezed his hands.  
  
“I love you so much,” he whispered.  
  
I scooted closer to him and stroked his cheek.  
  
“I love you, too, baby.”  
  
Chibs smiled and kissed me gently before pulling the covers up and hugging me to him like a doll. Within minutes, the two of us falling asleep, feeling like the world around us didn’t exist and we knew only each other.  
  
***  
  
“Callie! Callie, sweetheart, wake up!”  
  
I groaned and rolled onto my back. I felt a hand lightly squeeze my arm.  
  
“Callie!” Chibs voice cut through my sleepy haze, and I opened my eyes.  
  
I looked up to see him standing over me, tossing his knife holster over his shoulders.  
  
“Get up. Get dressed. We gotta go,” he said.  
  
I stared up at him in confusion.  
  
“Why?” I asked.  
  
He sighed.  
  
“It’s Juice.”


	32. You Are My Son Shine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter has been proofread and edited.

I had never gotten dressed so fast in my life. I hit the floor running, grabbing the clothes Chibs and I had tossed into the floor, not caring that I had worn them yesterday. I didn’t have time to go through my bag for any longer than it took to grab fresh underwear and throw them on. Afterwards, I grabbed my cut and bag and took off after Chibs.  
Outside, some of the boys were getting on their bikes, while others were just now making it out. Venus said goodbye to us at the door and promised she’d help hold down the fort until we returned. I ran out to my bike, put my helmet on, and waited until the last Son, being Montez, ran out and hopped on his bike. Chibs pushed forward, followed by Tig, then Hap, then the rest of us. As a Scout, I trailed behind, but then pushed ahead, leading my boys at a distance and keeping a look-out for any signs of danger as we sped through sleeping Charming to St. Thomas.  
At the hospital, we followed Chibs through the hallways and up the elevators, hunting for the doctor. After being directed to ICU, we ran into a nurse in pink scrubs, who seemed to recognize Chibs and approached us.  
  
“Mr. Telford?” she asked.  
  
We stopped in front of her.  
  
“Aye,” Chibs replied, “What’s goin’ on?”  
  
I slipped between Happy and Rat to stand by Chibs and Tig. Tig held me by the shoulders.  
The nurse took a deep breath, her face grim.  
  
“Mr. Ortiz's vitals began to drop yesterday afternoon. We brought him back into ICU to treat him and bring his vitals back up, but with the extensive damage to his internal organs, even with surgery, there’s not much more we can do. His organs are shutting down, and right now, all we can do is keep him comfortable.”  
  
“You can’t perform emergency surgery? Shoot him up with somethin'? Anythin'?” Chibs asked, outraged.  
  
“I’m sorry, Mr. Telford. Mr. Ortiz is much too weak. We have done everything we can,” she said, “I’m afraid he’s taken a turn for the worst. At this point, we call in the family and keep him as pain-free as possible. Make his last hours peaceful and give the family a chance to say goodbye.”  
  
I squeezed my eyes closed and looked away. Tig tightened his arm around me.  
  
“It’s okay,” he whispered.  
  
“Follow me. I’ll take you to him,” she said.  
  
Tig let me go and I took Chibs’ hand. He held my hand in a death grip and kept me close as the nurse led us into a room full of beds that were only separated by curtains. No one was in at the moment, except for a young nurse who appeared from behind the only bed closed off by the blue curtains. She spotted us and turned back to hold the curtain open. Chibs and I stepped through first, and the rest of the club circled around our brother. Juice was on a breathing machine, heart monitor, and various other pieces of equipment giving him extra time. He looked so much worse than he had yesterday morning. His face was gaunt, lips wrinkled, and he held his hands above his chest, reminding me of the way some elderly people held their arms. I felt tears brim my eyes just looking at him.  
Chibs sat on the bed and took Juice’s hands.  
  
“Juicey,” he said.  
  
Juice opened his eyes and looked around.  
  
“Hey,” he breathed out.  
  
“We’re all here, brother,” Chibs said, choking up.  
  
If it wasn’t Juice that would cause me to cry, it would be Chibs. I was sure.  
  
Juice’s eyes wheeled around and he smiled, if only slightly.  
  
“I hope I didn't…disappoint you,” he said to Chibs.  
  
Chibs shook his head.  
  
“No, brother. Juicey, I am so proud of ya. We all are,” he said.  
  
We nodded in agreement. Juice smiled. Chibs held Juice’s hands tightly.  
  
“Don’t leave, Juicey. We need ya,” he said.  
  
Juice just smiled.  
  
“It’s okay,” he whispered, “You’ll be okay, too.”  
  
Chibs bit his lip.  
  
“I love you, brother,” Juice whispered.  
  
Chibs sniffed.  
  
“I love you, too, Juice.”  
  
I looked down and held Tig’s arm, wishing this wasn’t happening. Juice’s eyes closed, and Chibs reached up to cup his cheek.  
  
“Juicey, don’t,” he pleaded.  
  
Tears fell down his cheeks. The heart monitor’s beeping slowed, and with a short blip in sound, the sound was constant. Chibs whimpered and leaned over Juice, letting his head fall against his shoulder. I lost it and turned my face into Tig’s arm. Tig hugged me to him and I bawled into his cut.  
  
“Juicey, no,” Chibs sobbed.  
  
I heard the nurse enter and call the time.  
  
“4:20 A.M,” she said, and I could hear a pen scratching against paper.  
  
Tig suggested that the rest of the crew leave for a moment, leaving just Chibs, myself, and him with Juice one last time.  
  
“Mr. Telford?” the nurse asked.  
  
Tig let go of me and held his hand up.  
  
“Can we just have a minute?” he asked.  
  
The nurses nodded, and left through the curtain. Tig and I approached the bed and Tig held Chibs’ shoulder.  
  
“Brother,” he said calmly.  
  
Chibs lifted his head and looked down at Juice.  
  
“I’ll see ya later, brother,” he whispered.  
  
I blinked and wiped the tears still falling down my cheeks. Chibs gave Juice a shaky kiss to the forehead before Tig took his arm and he stood. I walked to the bedside and leaned down to hug him. I could feel one of the guys' hand on my back.  
  
“I love you, brother,” I whispered, my voice nothing but hiccuping sobs.  
  
I kissed Juice’s temple, then stood and quickly buried my face in Chibs’ jacket.  
  
“Stay golden, Juice,” Tig said, then engulfed Chibs and I into a hug.  
  
“Come on,” he said.  
  
Tig patted our backs. I reached up to wipe the moisture from Chibs’ cheeks. The look of devastation on his face broke my heart. He looked to me, as if asking if it was okay to leave. He had made no move to step away from the bed. I took his hands and nodded to him.  
  
“I’ve got you,” I whispered.  
  
Chibs let out a shaky breath, fresh tears spilling over. He nodded, and I held him around the waist, following Tig slowly down to the waiting room where the rest of our brothers were. Chibs fought with himself and swallowed down his grief long enough to speak with the boys. Some were in tears, and others just as devastated as we were. When we entered, they stood.  
  
“Let’s uh…” Chibs cleared his throat, “Let’s lift the lockdown. Go home. Spend time in our own beds. With our loved ones.”  
  
The crew nodded.  
  
“No one rides alone, and if ya live alone, spend the night with someone. Stay safe,” he finished.  
  
The boys nodded. Tig cleared his throat, speaking up for Chibs when he tilted his down and wiped his eyes.  
  
“Let’s head out. We’ll figure out the next step tomorrow,” he said.  
  
The crew agreed, and all of us hugged each other before saying goodbye. Tig, Chibs and I stayed behind.  
  
“Venus and I will crash with you guys. Stay close,” Tig said.  
  
Chibs sniffed and nodded.  
  
“‘Kay,” was all he said.  
  
Tig pulled us back into his arms, kissed Chibs on the cheek, then my hairline. Chibs buried his face in my hair, gripping Tig and I tightly.  
  
“I love you both so much,” he said.  
  
“Love you, too,” Tig and I replied.  
  
***  
  
That afternoon, all was quiet. No one slept. Venus and Tig took my old room, and Chibs and I didn’t hear a peep out of them, except for when one got up to use the bathroom. When we got home, Chibs cried his heart out into the pillows. It was like when Jax died all over again, except this time, I was crying right with him.  
By the evening, all was quiet. No cell phones rang, and the tears had been shed. We only saw Tig and Venus a few times during the afternoon, the final time when Tig offered to run into town and pick up dinner. Chibs agreed, and Venus went with him. Chibs was inside for a moment while I sat on the railing on the back porch, enjoying the clear air while I polluted my lungs with a cigarette I had bummed off of Chibs. I had purposely been avoiding buying my own packs in an effort to slow myself down, but this day called for one.  
Chibs returned to the porch with two shot glasses full of amber liquid. I didn’t even ask what it was. I just took it. Chibs held his glass up.  
  
“To Juice,” he said.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“To Juice,” I said, my voice just above a whisper.  
  
We clinked our glasses, and Chibs held his in the air, looking up at the sky to our ghosts above. He crossed his heart with the shot, and together, we downed the whiskey he had chosen.  
Inside, the front door opened and Tig and Venus entered with a couple of large brown paper bags.  
  
“Soup’s on, kids!” Tig called.  
  
Chibs and I looked to the house, then back to each other. He took my glass and held his hand out. I took it and slid down from the railing, following him inside.  
I sat beside Chibs, across from Tig at dinner. We spoke idly and talked about anything we could that didn’t involve Juice or club business. Tig asked me what color I wanted to paint the Sportster. The boys were investing in new airbrush equipment to provide customization services—an idea inspired by Chibs binge watching _Counting Cars_ at night. I thought about candy apple red, as well as purple, just to be different. I told Tig I wasn’t sure, but Chibs agreed either color would be beautiful.  
  
“You think I should just go with black? All of your bikes are black,” I said, stirring my mashed potatoes.  
  
“That’s just personal preference, baby girl,” Tig said, “You can paint it whatever color you like.”  
  
I nodded.  
  
“I think purple would be pretty, sugar,” Venus spoke up.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Guess it wouldn’t matter. I’ll use the Suzuki for scouting and the Harley for whatever,” I replied.  
  
“Well,” Chibs said, poking a hole in his dinner roll so he could pour some honey in it, “I think, and I hate to do this to ya, sweetheart, but I think for the time bein’, I’m gonna take ya off of scoutin’. Put T.O. and Montez on it.”  
  
I dropped my fork into the styrofoam box my food had come in, dissatisfied that it didn’t make the loud clink a plate would make.  
  
“What?” I asked, my voice almost cracking as it shot up in pitch.  
  
Chibs looked down at me in surprise to see the devastation on my face. He sighed and put his own fork down.  
  
“It’s not a demotion, sweetheart. You’re more than capable of takin’ care of the job. Hell! I’d rather have ya do it alone than Montez and T.O. I know ya could do it better, but right now, I want ya ridin’ with us.”  
  
I looked down sadly. It made sense. When scouting, you’re required to ride ahead, several cars in front of or behind the pack, check out locations to make sure they were clear, and keep an eye out from afar to prevent any surprise attacks. I personally liked climbing and hiding, as well as speeding ahead of the boys, knowing I was responsible for their safety. I liked the rush of adrenaline I felt just from daydreaming about running the enemy down. I didn’t want to give it up, but Chibs was right. I couldn’t do it without a partner, and of course, I’m sure he was worried that something may happen to me.  
  
“He just wants to keep you safe, Cal,” Tig said softly.  
  
I looked from my VP to my Prez and nodded. Chibs wiped his hands and turned to me.  
  
“Listen, lovely. Tiggy’s right. I want ya close. Let T.O. and Montez work it for now,” he said, “I love them, but ya mean a little bit more to me.”  
  
He winked and I smiled softly.  
  
“I understand,” I said.  
  
Chibs placed a hand on my shoulder.  
  
“But you’ll move up in rank. I’m thinkin’ about rearrangin’ the table a little. Put ya up by Tiggy. Rat across from ya. It won’t even it, but it’ll make room for a Prospect. Put ya in a place where it’s easier to talk.”  
  
“And so he can look you,” Tig said, “Speaking of, I heard you two last night. Humping away like horny teenagers.”  
  
“Bullshit!” Chibs said.  
  
Tig looked to me.  
  
“Chibby moans like a whore,” he said.  
  
Chibs flicked a piece of breading from his chicken at Tig.  
  
“I don’t know about that, but I know the sound of a mind being blown,” Venus said, pointing her knife at me, “And honey, you have some lungs!”  
  
I felt my entire head heat up, and looked down in embarrassment.  
  
“Like we’ve never heard you two goin’ at it before!” Chibs snapped playfully.  
  
I just put my head in my hands. What was done was done, and I couldn’t help that I was loud, but Jesus!  
Chibs laughed at me and put and arm around my shoulders.  
  
“I know this feels like I’m bein’ an asshole, but I promise I’ll let ya scout again,” he said quietly.  
  
I smiled at him, then reached up and kissed him.  
  
“I’m not mad. Really, it’s probably for the best,” I said.  
  
I took his hand and lifted it to my mouth.  
  
“If I were President, I’d do the same for you,” I said and kissed his knuckles.  
  
Venus gushed and Tig faked gagged. Chibs smiled warmly and kissed my forehead before we returned to our food.  
  
“Won’t be the same, anyway,” flew out of my mouth before I realized what I said.  
  
A darkness fell over us, reality creeping in again, and I mentally kicked my ass for even speaking. I suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore, and closed my box before excusing myself and taking my leftovers to the fridge.  
  
“Callie,” Chibs said, but I disappeared into the living room, tears rushing to my eyes before I could stop them. I climbed onto the couch, curling over the arm with a throw pillow, hugging it tightly and burying my face in it.  
  
Dammit, I thought the tears had dried up.  
  
“Baby,” I heard Venus speak.  
  
I looked up to see her walk up to me and sit beside me.  
  
“Come here, sugar,” she said.  
  
I let go of the pillow and hugged her. She rubbed my back as I cried on her shoulder, her long hair sticking to my face.  
  
“I know this is hard, baby, but he’s always with you. Things are gonna change, and it’ll take time, but I promise it’ll be okay, sweetie.”  
  
I let it out and she rocked and soothed me. I had cried until I had wanted to puke this morning, but I think my heart was breaking over Chibs’ mourning than my own. When I spoke at the table, everything came crashing down on me. I had lost yet another person in my life. How many more were going to drop? My parents were taken, my fiancé was taken, my best friends I grew up with had turned on me and I had watched my brother and partner in crime die right in front of me. Not to mention RJ! I could not lose another.  
  
“Babe!” Tig called from the kitchen.  
  
Venus cradled me to her and ruffled my hair.  
  
“Yes, Alex?”  
  
“Bring Callie in here.”  
  
Venus pulled back and stroked my cheek. I smiled at her and she took my hands.  
  
“Come on, baby.”  
  
I stood with her and followed her back into the kitchen. Tig was standing, and walked over to Venus. He whispered something to her and she nodded. Chibs walked up to me and wrapped his arms around me.  
  
“I’m sorry, Callie girl. That was too much at once. I should have waited to tell ya that,” he apologized.  
  
I sniffed and shook my head.  
  
“It wasn’t that. I just…I don’t know. I just lost my shit. I’m sorry.”  
  
Chibs tightened his arms around me and kissed my hairline.  
  
“It’s okay. Don’t apologize,” he said softly.  
  
Tig went to the fridge and pulled out three beers. Chibs and I looked up at him. His dangled the bottles between his ringed fingers.  
  
“Let’s have a drink,” he said.  
  
Chibs took the bottles and handed one to me. I accepted it and followed them out to the back porch. Venus stayed inside.  
Outside, the full moon was rising, tinted orange and pink. Chibs and I sat in the patio chairs while Tig perched himself on the railing and looked over his shoulder at the moon. None of us said a word for a long time. We drank our beers, Chibs had a smoke, and we watched the orange fade to white over the ball of cheese in the sky.  
Maybe ten minutes passed by before Tig smiled and sniffed.  
  
“This one time,” he said, “Clay had Juice and I go to Unser’s and nab a truck.”  
  
Chibs and I glared at Tig, wondering why the hell he was even bringing Juice up. The last thing I wanted to hear was someone daring to tell a Juice story.  
  
“Uncle Twitchy had this damn Doberman guarding the lot, so I told Juice to drug it,” he went on.  
  
“Oh, I remember that!” Chibs said.  
  
I cut my eyes at Chibs. Really? Right now?  
  
“Go in and the goddamn dog fucking flips shit and chases us. Takes a chunk out of my ass. Juice didn’t understand what happened. Little retard gave the stupid dog two grams of crystal! I thought I was going to wring his neck!”  
  
Chibs actually laughed, and even though I was a little pissed we were talking about this, I couldn’t help but laugh a little.  
  
“What was that fuckin’ virus everyone was gettin’? Had Juice locked in his house for a month?” Chibs asked.  
  
Tig burst out laughing.  
  
“Goddamn swine flu! Okay, Callie, you gotta hear this one,” he said.  
  
I sighed and set my beer down.  
  
“For like, a week Chibby pretended he was coming down with something. We had the whole club in on it because Juice would not stop freaking out over this swine flu shit. He had hand sanitizer everywhere and every morning he scrubbed the entire clubhouse with bleach. It was getting out of hand, so we came up with a plan.”  
  
“They decided to send Juicey over here to check on me. For a good, maybe four or five hours, I had been drinkin’ and eatin’ anythin’ red. I put red food dye in my water and everythin’,” Chibs said.  
  
“We wanted to make it look like he was puking blood,” Tig explained.  
  
I cracked a smile and shook my head.  
  
“Oh my God!”  
  
“I poured fake blood down my shirt, on my face to make it look like I had been cryin’ blood, all over my hands and in and on the toilet and the shower. Then, right as he came in, I chugged a glass of tequila that I had dyed red because it’s like ipecac on me. I puke every time. He comes into the bathroom to see just this fountain of red shoot out of my mouth and he flips shit!”  
  
“Calls me,” Tig said, “And I come over. Chibs has made this huge fucking mess of red puke. Then, Chibs goes after Juice, and this was totally on accident, but he sneezed on him.”  
  
“Sprayed red snot and spit all over him! It was marvelous!” Chibs said.  
  
I stared between the guys and shook my head in shock.  
  
“That is so mean!” I said.  
  
“Callie, baby girl, you don’t understand the misery he put us through,” Tig said.  
  
I pinched the bridge of my nose and laughed.  
  
“You really sneezed on him?” I asked Chibs.  
  
He took a drink of his beer.  
  
“I apologized,” he said.  
  
With that, all three of us started laughing, and it felt good. Felt amazing, actually. I smiled sadly to myself. This had not been the wrong time to tell a Juice story. It was the perfect time. We needed that laugh, and it helped to know we could still remember the good times. I only had a few months with my brother, but I would cherish them forever.  
Chibs sighed, wiping his eyes from the tears that had emerged from laughing.  
  
“I’m gonna miss him,” he said.  
  
Tig smiled.  
  
“Me, too,” he said.  
  
I nodded in agreement.  
  
“Me three,” I said.  
  
Chibs smiled at me, reached across the patio table for my hand, and brought it to his lips, kissing my knuckles. Tig smiled at us.  
  
“His death will have not been in vain,” he said.  
  
Chibs and I agreed. Tig held his beer up, and we toasted to Juice. He was in a better place, his pain now gone. We would make sure he would smile down on us.  
  
***  
  
Several days later, Chibs received Juice’s ashes. RJ was cremated a day earlier, and sent to the sky from a cliff outside of Charming. The clubhouse was filled with flowers, cards, expensive bottles of alcohol, pictures, and little teddy bears and such. I didn’t bother to look at any of it. I don’t think any of us did. Everyone in the club or affiliated with us, including hang-arounds, Old Ladies, friends, as well as our alliances came to wish their condolences and sign a small piece of paper with a short message to Juice. This was Venus’ idea. She spent all night one night cutting squares of copy paper, stacked them, and set them on the pool table with a handful of pens. Everyone had signed at least one, although we could make as many as we wanted, and the finished notes were folded and set on the felt of the pool table. The thing was loaded within hours, and Tig found a box for them. They were be burned at the memorial.  
The club decided on laying Juice to rest at the lake on the back of the cabin property, setting him free in the water and symbolizing his crossing the river. Chibs was the one to dump the plastic box into the current. The boys and I stood in a semi-circle and watched our Prez as he dumped the fine powder into the water, whispering a prayer in Gaelic. Venus and the rest of the girls lit floating candles. There were many little lights on the water, and they followed the cloud of ash through the current like ducks, lighting Juice’s way home. All of us were in tears when we saw the candles. I had a hard time holding back, and Tig held my hand as we watched it all go. Some candles were splashed out as they disappeared to the center of the lake, and they all disappeared as soon as they met in the middle. It was a strange thing to see. What ten candles that were still lit went out at once, as if they were done, and Juice’s spirit was set free.  
  
“Bye, Juicey,” I whispered.  
  
Tig squeezed my hand. Chibs walked back up the bank to us. We crowded around him and hugged him. We may have lost our brother, but the rest of us were still here and whole. Our family was together, and that’s all that mattered. We held on tight to that.  
When the messages were burned in a bonfire, Chibs and I sat on top of the picnic table, his arms around my waist.  
  
“What did your note say?” he asked.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Just ‘I love you.’ What about yours?”  
  
He perched his chin on my shoulder.  
  
“‘I promise,’” he replied, “I made one to him the mornin’ Quinn and I went to see him.”  
  
I turned my head to look at him.  
  
“What did you promise him?” I asked.  
  
He looked down at me.  
  
“That I would always take care of his little sister,” he replied.  
  
My heart clenched up and my throat closed. Chibs leaned over and kissed my cheek. I didn’t even bother to fight the tears.  
  
“And I will,” he whispered.  
  
I reached up and touched his cheek. I couldn’t save my brother, but I swore in that moment that I would always take care of his older brother, and I would never let either go.


	33. Baby-Sitting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofread and edited.

The sweet smell of grass and clean, fresh air floated in through the window. A breeze blew the sheer white curtains softly as the sun warmed the bedroom and beamed down on my face. I took in a deep breath and stretched. When I rolled over, the bed was empty, and I could hear movement in the bathroom down the hall. I sat up and slid out of bed, then walked over to the dresser to grab a pair of shorts, as I had only slept in panties and a thin, oversized t-shirt that had, at one time, said “Fuck Off” and was ripping at the hem, collar, and armpits. It had been mangled by years of taking a tumble in the washing machine and being used as a shirt I wore when dying my hair, painting, or something else to abuse it, but I could not bare to part with it.  
I slipped out of the room and down the hall to find the bathroom door open, the light on and Chibs inside in nothing but jeans, viciously towel-drying his hair in front of the mirror. I waited at the door for a moment, sure he was not aware of my presence. He rubbed the towel over his hair before pulling it away, taking in air it had obstructed and letting damp pieces of chocolate brown and silver fall. He carelessly tossed the damp towel into the hamper, just barely making it in. I watched as he combed the tangles out with his fingers, the silver in the warm light looking almost like blonde streaks. I wondered if the lack of pigmentation was bad genetics. I had never seen pictures of his parents, or even heard anything about them. He rarely talked about anything having to do with his childhood. He spoke a few good things of Scotland, but I got the impression that he never liked his father. I also got the impression that whatever you do, you do not speak ill of his momma. His aim was deadly accurate.  
The graying, of course, could also be from the stress of the club’s wars with pretty much everyone. Law and outlaw. The list was outrageous. It could have been an unhealthy mixture of the two, and not to mention his other little habits which, according to him, were much worse in his younger years. He had claimed with age came wisdom, and enough goddamn sense to quit acting like he was invincible. Whether he had stopped too late or at the right time was uncertain. He wasn’t that old. 49. Certainly a few years ahead of me, but I never thought much of it. Regardless, I liked the few streaks that framed his face and spidered from his temples, some of it running to the ends that flared out behind his ears. I thought his hair was beautiful, and it showed his maturity.  
Chibs took a comb and brushed his hair back on his head, pulling the strands out of his eyes. The long pieces that naturally curved along his temple and over his ears on both sides promptly separated from the rest of the hair. Normally it took some pomade to get it to stay, even though his hair was trained to lay back against his head. On days like today, all of it tried to part down the middle, and he combed it again, receiving better, but not the desired result. He shrugged and set the comb down. He couldn’t be bothered with it. He just pushed his hair behind his ears and moved on with the rest of his grooming routine. Carefully shaving, trimming up the ‘stache and goatee, and brushing his teeth. I finally slipped inside as he rinsed and picked up the towel that had fallen out of the pile of laundry. Chibs spit and patted his mouth with the hand towel before he even noticed I had slipped in.  
  
“Hey! Mornin’, darlin’.”  
  
I smiled at him and pulled myself up into the edge of the counter.  
  
“Mornin’, sweetheart,” I said softly.  
  
Chibs placed his toothbrush, an old red piece of plastic with bristles that had begun to spread out, and I made a note to grab him a new one the next time we made the tedious trip to the store for toilet paper and chips, and whatever other shit we needed. My toothbrush was sitting on the far side of the countertop where I had commandeered the corner with my own toiletries. I had always kept them in my bag up until the time Chibs asked me to stay. By now, I suppose, we could say that we were living together, and his home was mine. I had a total of two vehicles under his carport, and three drawers out of the nine that occupied his dresser. He had used them for no more than to store a few books, priceless mementos, and a slew of socks. Each with holes, and only a handful saved as dust rags while the others were thrown away. Even part of his closet, which he had been meaning to clean out anyway, was organized to make room for my few pairs of shoes and anything I needed to hang. My cut, my colored patches stitched to it, and my leather jacket with my blackouts, were the only two things I really needed to hang, and the cut was always thrown down in a chair and the jacket lived on the coat rack in the foyer. His home was my home, but it would take some getting used to for that to take root in my mind. No matter my unease with him making room, he never ceased to make me feel welcome.  
Chibs took my hips and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was nothing less than tender—sensual even. His lips were usually soft, and tasted of his toothpaste. This was not the usual good morning peck, nor was it the heated, hungry kiss that led to bedroom activities, but rather something in between. He had picked this up since Juice had passed. Ever since that day, he had taken the time to stretch things out. Take it slowly. He did not drown me in affection or suffocate me, as he was not that kind of person, but he took extra measures to give me more attention and show his feelings. How much he cared about me. How much he loved me. At first, I thought he was just a little needy. Craving attention and finding any way he could to, for once, let me baby him for no other reason than that he was sad. He was, of course, suffering a little, and I had done everything I could to soothe him. Distract him. Help him through the mourning period as he was helping me. However, mourning was not the reason for this new habit, and he had confessed to me one night about why. He was not forward with his reason, but when he told me, I understood. Fear of loss.  
We all felt a rip in our hearts after losing our brother, but it kicked Chibs in the ass, and he realized that nothing was more important than loved ones. Neither of us wanted to lose another, and the reality hit him when he saw how precious life was. It was time to cling to the things that mattered and let go of old ghosts. So, he spent extra time with me, making every moment count, because tomorrow, one of us could be gone. Everything was pulled in focus for the both of us, and even though I had always kept it in my mind to spend time with him and be satisfied with the day, Juice’s death made me realize the same. Death could strike at any time, and there was a message in his passing. Losing him was not a time to spend your days wallowing in the bed, crying and making yourself feel like shit, nor was it a time to shut off, fall back on old habits, and for the love of everything, not to push anyone away. It was a wakeup call, and in the few days after sending Juice’s ashes off, Chibs and I bonded closer, building new structures in our friendship and our relationship. Chibs and I were naturally private people, but trust and kindness were the only keys to unlocking my shell. Chibs took a lot of time, patience, and understanding. I did not have to work so hard to gain his trust, but it took a lot of kind words and a little coaxing for him to open up. Seeing him break out of his shell more around me was beautiful.  
Chibs smoothed his hands across the small of my back and hugged me. Even at the height of the counter, he was still too tall for me to perch me chin on his shoulder, but I pressed my mouth into his shoulder, kissing his skin as I held my arms up and around his back. I reached up to run my fingers through the ends of his hair, feeling moisture gather between my fingers, as his hair had yet to completely dry. Chibs sighed with slight annoyance and looked up from me to the mirror behind us.  
  
“I should probably go see Floyd. Get this shit cut,” he said, running a hand through his hair.  
  
I pouted.  
  
“Nah. Don’t cut it,” I said.  
  
He looked down at me and smiled.  
  
“Why not?” he asked.  
  
I shrugged.  
  
“I like it this length. Maybe a bit longer. I don’t know. You look good with longer hair,” I said.  
  
Not saying that he’d look bad with shorter hair, but he had this very regal look that I was quite fond of.  
  
“Yeah?” he asked.  
  
I reached up to hold his shoulders and smiled.  
  
“Are we at that point where my Old Lady calls the shots on my hair?” he asked teasingly.  
  
I smiled and shook my head.  
  
“Or do ya want it long enough to cover my ugly mug?” he asked, plowing his fingers into his hair and pulling it down over his forehead.  
  
I laughed and brushed it back again.  
  
“Filip, don’t talk like that,” I said.  
  
I took his hands, holding them up between us.  
  
“You’re always handsome,” I said, my cheeks burning.  
  
Chibs was known for holding a calm, neutral and often cold expression. You almost never knew what he was really feeling, but even when he was keeping a straight face, his eyes told it all. However, he was extremely expressive. Neutral often kicked into obvious annoyance, to a smirk, to the predatory smile I knew personally to mean trouble, to his grin that occasionally opened into a laugh around the boys, to a deadly dangerous snarl and cold, merciless hatred in his eyes behind the sights of a gun. In breaking away some of his shell, I found this beautiful and downright precious smile he possessed. I had only recently found it when I complimented him on his singing abilities—or, lack of. We had been listening to the radio one night, and he had a song stuck in his head. When he went to take a shower, I walked by and heard him singing. Let’s just say that him staying away from something like _American Idol_ was the best idea for everyone. When he returned to the bedroom, and I mentioned it, he smiled, slightly embarrassed, but the smile on his face made me melt on the spot. I had never seen him smile so sweetly, and any chance I got to get him to do it again, I took it. My last comment did the trick.  
Chibs smiled, laughing and closing his eyes. A pair of long brown eyelashes that any woman who gave a shit would be jealous of fell across the bottom lids of his eyes, his dimples deepened into his cheeks. Never had I been a fan of dimples, or saw the reason behind the fuss until this man smiled. Underneath the grim expressions and the leather was this sweetheart, and though he was hidden deeply, he existed. Call it love goggles, but I didn’t see his flaws like he did. I could see a smattering of freckles that could only be seen when you were close enough, but the scars, the fine lines that appeared under his eyes when he smiled, and anything he could nitpick about were invisible to me. They were just a part of him, and I loved all of him. The slight pudge he was having a hard time dropping, his various body scars, the scar on his stomach. He was sensitive to all of them, and I saw absolutely nothing wrong with him.  
I coaxed his head down and kissed him deeply. He nuzzled his nose against my brow and pressed a soft kiss to my cheekbone.  
  
“Ya really think I should leave it?” he asked.  
  
I smiled up at him and combed my fingers through his hair. He shivered a little. I grinned mischievously.  
  
“What else am I going to grab when I scream your name?” I asked lowly.  
  
Chibs’ eyes darkened and he pounced me, attacking my mouth. I gasped as he chomped down on my neck.  
  
We were supposed to go into TM.  
  
That wasn’t happening this morning.  
  
***  
  
“It’s official,” Brooke said, “I need to buy more jeans.”  
  
I looked up at her from the set of gun parts I was cleaning. She was standing in front of a mirror, examining the small bump that had grown between her hips. I smiled and looked back down at the gun parts. Venus was in the kitchen with Chucky, making some sort of secret dessert that we were not allowed to know about. Brooke had come in to help clean and busy herself. She felt better today, but Rat still wanted her close while he finished his shift in the garage. At least until the afternoon. She had a new job as a barista downtown, and even though it had its hectic moments, it was good for her. Coffee smells did not bother her, and it was far less stressful than being at the clubhouse. Besides, it helped her focus and put her energy to work than have it build and cause her to freak.  
  
“What time is it?” Brooke asked.  
  
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked it.  
  
“15 ’til,” I replied.  
  
Brooke hissed.  
  
“Shit!” she said, then grabbed her bag and left the office, “I’ll see you guys later. Bye Venus! Bye Fingers!”  
  
Chucky shot out of the kitchen and grinned and waved. I laughed and looked back to her.  
  
“Good luck,” I said.  
  
She smiled and thanked me before quickly leaving. I finished the part I was cleaning and moved to another when Venus came out of no where.  
  
“Close your eyes and open your mouth.”  
  
I snorted. Wonder how many times she’s said that one!  
  
“Vee-“  
  
“Hush and do it,” she ordered.  
  
I groaned and begrudgingly stopped what I was doing to close my eyes.  
  
“Are you allergic to anything? Marshmallows, rice, gluten-“  
  
“I don’t have any food allergies, Venus,” I replied, irritated.  
  
“Then open wide.”  
  
I opened my mouth and she placed a bite of something crunchy and sticky on my tongue. I bit down to be rewarded with the sweet taste of melted marshmallow and crunchy bites of rice cereal. My eyes slammed open to see the remainder of a Rice Krispie treat in her hand.  
  
“Holy shit! I haven’t had one of these in forever!”  
  
Venus smiled and handed me the rest of the square, the buttery and marshmallow mixture that held it together not completely stiffened yet.  
  
“Here. Eat them now before the boys find them. They’ll be gone in an hour,” she said.  
  
I laughed and took the rest of the square, my mind flying back to childhood.  
  
I heard the clubhouse door open as I finished cleaning the last part and beginning to put the gun back together. Heels clicked across the concrete floor, and to my surprise, Wendy appeared around the corner, Thomas on her hip.  
  
“Hey,” I said, clicking parts into place.  
  
“Hey,” she said breathlessly and looked around, “Chibs here? I tried calling. I didn’t want to just drop in.”  
  
“He and Tig ran to get gas. Probably didn’t hear it,” I replied.  
  
She nodded.  
  
“I thought so. You think it’d be okay if I left him here for a few hours? Brooke’s at work and Nero and I have our hands full,” she said.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Yeah. We’re just hanging around and bullshitting,” I replied.  
  
Wendy smiled. The clubhouse door opened and Wendy turned her head to look. Chibs and Tig entered, Chibs pulling his shades off and hooking them in his shirt sleeve.  
  
“Hey, darlin’,” he said, smiling.  
  
Thomas spun around at the sound of Chibs’ voice. Chibs’ face lit up when he saw him.  
  
“Hey, Tommy boy,” he said.  
  
Thomas smiled around the pacifier in his mouth. Chibs walked up to me and leaned down to kiss my forehead.  
  
“Hey, I hate doing this but could I leave him here with you guys for a while? Nero and I are working with the movers and I can’t juggle boxes and the baby at once,” Wendy said.  
  
“Yeah. We can watch him,” Chibs replied.  
  
Thomas reached for Chibs. Wendy sighed and Chibs held his hands out.  
  
“Come to Uncle Chibby. There,” Chibs said, taking the baby into his arms.  
  
“Thank-you. It’ll only be a few hours. I’ll pick Abel up from school and come by to get him,” she said.  
  
Chibs shifted Thomas up, keeping a hand firmly around his diapered butt.  
  
“It’s no problem, mom,” he said.  
  
Wendy smiled, the gratitude written on her face. I held a hand out and offered to take the diaper bag off her shoulder. She thanked me and handed it over.  
  
“‘Kay, well he’s been fed and I changed him before I left, so he’ll probably just nap. All of his stuff is in the bag. Diapers, wipes, food, toys, extra change of clothes. He’s set.”  
  
“Alright. Ya want me to send someone to help?” Chibs asked.  
  
Wendy’s eyes widened.  
  
“If you can spare one, absolutely!”  
  
Chibs smiled and turned to Tig.  
  
“Go get Quinn,” he said.  
  
Tig nodded and turned to leave. Wendy thanked us again and kissed Thomas goodbye before leaving. Thomas made soft noises to Chibs and fingered the beads around his neck. Chibs smiled lovingly and kissed him on the forehead. I set my gun aside as Chibs sat on the stool next to me.  
  
“You're no stranger to him,” I observed.  
  
Chibs smiled and patted the baby’s back.  
  
“Nah. Practically raised both of the boys,” he said.  
  
Thomas spun around and stared at me with wide eyes. I’m sure he didn’t know what to think. He had seen me before, but he was also preoccupied with Cheerios and crayons.  
  
“This one’s my favorite. He’s quiet,” he continued.  
  
I smiled at that.  
  
“He has the biggest blue eyes I’ve ever seen,” I said.  
  
Chibs smiled and looked at Thomas.  
  
“Aye. He’s got his daddy’s eyes. Hair, too,” he said, and ran a hand over the top of Thomas’ feathery blonde hair, “But he looks like Tara, I think. Abel looks like Jackie and acts like Wendy, but this one looks like his momma.”  
  
I smiled as I watched Thomas smile at Chibs. Chibs kissed his cheek, and Thomas laid his little head on his shoulder. Chibs looked up at me and smiled.  
  
“Ya wanna hold him?”  
  
I stared at him in horror.  
  
“No…”  
  
“Ah, c’mon. He’s a sweetheart,” he pressed.  
  
I looked down at Thomas, who looked happy as shit to be on Chibs and play with his necklace.  
  
“Babies hate me, Chibs. As soon as you try, he’s going to freak,” I replied.  
  
Chibs smiled.  
  
“Nah. He’s been handled by everyone. He’ll just look at ya funny,” he said, then grinned.  
  
I rolled my eyes. Babies could tell the difference.  
  
“Chibs…”  
  
Chibs smiled and looked down at Thomas, who was staring up at me.  
  
“Can ya say hi to Callie?” Chibs asked in a soft voice.  
  
Thomas gave him this look that had me cracking up. If he could speak, I know he would be saying “Hell no, stupid!”  
  
“Hi, Thomas,” I said.  
  
Thomas looked back at me with wide eyes. Chibs lifted him.  
  
“Go to Callie,” he said to him.  
  
Thomas looked as unsure as I felt. He wanted his Uncle Chibs.  
  
“Are you sure?” I asked.  
  
“Yeah. It’s not hard. Here,” he said.  
  
I reluctantly held my hands out and took Thomas. He whimpered, and I knew waterworks were imminent.  
  
“Hold his little butt,” Chibs instructed, taking my hand and placing it on Thomas’ seat.  
  
I held my other hand around his waist and let his legs dangle over my thigh.  
  
“There,” Chibs said, then laughed, “Ya look scared of him. He won’t bite. He only has two teeth.”  
  
I smiled at that. Thomas was staring at me in a manner that reminded me of an owl. I just prayed he would not start crying.  
  
“I’m not very good with kids,” I admitted.  
  
Chibs snorted.  
  
“I don’t believe that. He doesn’t seem to mind ya,” he said.  
  
Chibs looked pleased as he watched Thomas nervously reach a tiny finger up and touch my cheek. I sat dead still.  
  
“Callie, relax, sweetheart,” he said, laughing at me.  
  
I shot him a look.  
  
“You know how many babies I’ve held in my life? None! This is a first for me. I’m scared about projectile spit-up,” I said.  
  
Chibs burst out laughing.  
  
“He won’t, darlin’. You’re doin’ fine,” he said.  
  
Thomas touched my choppy black hair, then my forehead. I closed my eyes as he laid a palm on my cheek. I let out a small gasp as he did so. I did not know why I did it, but everything was soon over when Thomas turned back to Chibs and reached a hand out. I gladly handed him back over.  
  
“Come here, little one,” he said.  
  
Thomas tucked himself right on Chibs’ shoulder and his hands were back around the beads. Chibs reached for the diaper bag, opening it with one hand like he knew the bag inside and out, and perhaps he did. In a front pocket just under the messenger style flap was a tan rabbit plush toy—its fur matted from Thomas chewing on it.  
  
“What’s this?” Chibs asked in a soft, higher-pitched voice.  
  
His tone caught Thomas’ attention, and he turned his head as Chibs pull the rabbit out of the pocket.  
  
“Is this your bunny?” he asked.  
  
Thomas hummed happily. Chibs smiled and handed the toy to him, which he took in place of the beads and hugged it to him. Chibs looked up at me and tilted his head.  
  
“Come on,” he said.  
  
He stood and I followed him over to one of the leather couches. He carefully sat with Thomas and I sat down beside him. Thomas settled and closed his eyes, hugging his rabbit tightly. Chibs pulled an ear away to make sure he could breathe, then kissed the top of his head. I felt my heart skip without warning. Seeing him, this big, tough biker hold this little creature was…God! It was amazing. And it wasn’t just that he was a smoking, leather-wearing, cursing MC Prez, but it was Chibs himself, holding a now napping boy who had pretty much been orphaned, and yet, still had so many people that loved him and wanted nothing more for him than happiness. And Chibs was so good with him. For a man who never got the chance to raise a child, who seemed to have very strong and natural paternal instincts.  
A sudden thought flew through my mind that forced me to look away. It was a "What If" thought. One that brought triggered imagery with it. I was flown back to the conversation I had with Rat when he asked what I would do if I had been in Brooke’s shoes. I remembered Tig telling me to make sure he was there whenever Chibs and I decided to bring a baby into the world. I could roll my eyes and laugh then, but now, seeing him hold Thomas…I never understood the whole biological clock thing until now. I still did not even want kids. The screaming and crying and leaking. It turned me off. However, as I watched Chibs lay his head on Thomas’, I saw that there was a little more to it. It was not about human reproduction and the natural instinct to keep the bloodline flowing.  
It was obvious that Chibs loved these little boys. Most of it was because of Jax. He was his little brother, blood or not. It had not mattered to Chibs. Everyone in the Sons of Anarchy family were as good as his own flesh and blood. Even people with no patches. Old Ladies, ex-Old Ladies, friends and family of patched members. All that mattered to him was association. I’m sure Chibs would have adopted Abel and Thomas if they had no one else. These were his honorary nephews, but he seemed to love them like they were his own. It made me wonder how he would be with one of his own. Since Fiona broke the news she had not been loyal, Chibs did not have any children. I saw it as a shame. He certainly had enough love for them.  
I dared to look back up. Chibs was looking down at Thomas, watching the little one as he slept and stroking his cheek. It made a weird sensation spread through my chest.  
  
“Ya know I was there when this one was born?” he asked quietly.  
  
I looked up at him in surprise.  
  
“I wasn’t in the delivery room, but I was at the hospital. Supposed to be with her and the midwife for a home birth, but that didn't go as planned. Gemma was on house arrest and Jackie Boy was incarcerated. Still had a few months to go by the time Tara popped. I spent a lot of the time helpin’ her. Helped her through labor.”  
  
I felt my jaw drop and my heart defy me and swell.  
  
“Are you serious?” I asked.  
  
He smiled and nodded.  
  
“Aye. She was stubborn. Refused to call the midwife for a while. Guess I have more patience,” he said.  
  
I nodded. He was right about that. He had the patience of a saint.  
  
“I stayed up all night with her, then when it became unsafe to give birth at home, I drove her to the hospital. Walked the halls with her as the contractions progressed. My hand was nice and bruised for a week,” he continued.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Was the midwife in the delivery room with her?” I asked.  
  
He nodded.  
  
“Well, I’m sure Tara appreciated you being there,” I said.  
  
He smiled and nodded.  
  
“I was in the delivery room when my sister was born, though.”  
  
My eyes widened.  
  
“I didn’t know you had a sister!”  
  
He smiled at me.  
  
“It was a good day,” he said distantly, rubbing Thomas’ back.  
  
I swallowed and looked down nervously.  
  
“You never talk about your family,” I said quietly.  
  
Chibs took a deep breath.  
  
“Not much to tell,” he said.  
  
I chewed my lip and nodded. I was not going to press on. It seemed to be a sore subject, but I hoped it was not terrible. I often wondered if he had been abused, or possibly something along those lines. I’m sure that if that was the case, he did not want to speak about it anyway. Probably did not want me hating the thought of his family either.  
He leaned to the side and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. Thomas did not stir as he opened it with one hand and pushed a piece of paper out of a card slot. He took the paper from it and handed it to me.  
  
“My mother,” he said.  
  
I took the small, bent photograph. It was old, taken in sepia. A glamour shot of a woman with a familiar frown, her long hair pulled into an elegant bun. She had familiar sad eyes, cheekbones, and naturally arched eyebrows. A bit on the heavy side, but she was gorgeous.  
  
“She’s beautiful,” I said softly.  
  
“Aye,” Chibs agreed.  
  
I studied her face and clothing. It was hard to tell what she was wearing. A dress, I assumed. The photo cut off at the bust.  
  
“What was her name?” I asked, looking up at Chibs.  
  
“Saoirse,” he replied, “My great, great grandmother was from Ireland. She suggested the name to my grandmother.”  
  
I smiled. I liked that name.  
  
I looked up at Chibs as he adjusted Thomas. He had his mother’s facial structure. Same eyes, forehead, cheekbones, nose. His jaw and mouth were a bit different, and I knew those features were probably from his father.  
  
“You look like her,” I said.  
  
Chibs smiled, cheeks tinging pink. I laughed at his reaction.  
  
“I loved that woman. Growin’ up in Ireland and Glasgow, livin’ in poverty in both places…she worked like a dog to keep my sister and I afloat. She worked up until I turned 12. Maybe 11, I don’t remember anymore. Got sick. Passed away when I was 15,” he said.  
  
I felt my face fall.  
  
“Jesus. What happened?”  
  
“Early dementia,” he replied.  
  
I felt my heart stop. God...  
  
“My father…used to beat the shit outta her. I’m sure that’s all it took to mess her up,” he said bitterly.  
  
My shoulders sagged.  
  
“I took care of her and all of the home shit. Couldn’t afford to put her in any kinda care facility. She passed away at home. After that, I raised my sister. My father never did shit. Beat the shit outta me a few times, but by that time I was taller than him. Probably helps to have a hard head. Didn’t matter, as long as he didn’t touch my sister. I saved up everythin’ I could and packed my sister’s shit up. Bought her a bus ticket. Sent her out of that hell hole. Last I heard, she was doin’ fine. My father left when I was about 17. Not that he even lived with us, but he finally came for his stuff. Died alone in a hospital somewhere in Northern Ireland.”  
  
I looked down at the picture of Saoirse, trying to wrap my head around Chibs’ history and feeling sorry for her.  
  
“She was always good to me, though,” Chibs said, gesturing to the photo, “She was an angel.”  
  
I smiled at that and placed the picture carefully into its home in his wallet.  
  
“Ya know, I’ve never told that to anyone since I moved to California,” he said, as if it had just dawned on him.  
  
I smiled and leaned forward to set his wallet on the coffee table in front of us before Thomas could kick it to the floor.  
  
“Not even Jax?” I asked.  
  
He shook his head.  
  
“He knew my history with Fiona, but that was all he needed to know,” he replied.  
  
I looked down at my hands and absently picked at my fingernails.  
  
“I’m sorry if that was hard for you. I probably should have left it,” I said.  
  
“No, it’s okay, sweetheart. Feels kinda good to share it, actually,” he replied.  
  
I smiled and scooted closer to him, taking his free hand. He laced his fingers with mine and kissed the scar on my temple.  
I had a feeling he had had it hard. His history with the IRA was horrifying, but his childhood sounded just as rough. However, it shaped him to be a kind and decent man, considering. No one deserved the life he had lived, and he certainly did not! Despite everything, he was still fiercely protective, always gentle, and nothing less than fearless. He could have turned into something awful so easily. It made me admire him that much more.  
A certain smell flew up my nose that I knew was not Chibs, and I turned to look at him.  
  
“Please tell me that’s not what I think it is,” I said.  
  
Chibs sniffed and rolled his eyes as Thomas began to cry, his pacifier falling out of his mouth. I caught it and set it on the coffee table, then laughed and stood.  
  
“I’ll get the bag,” I said.  
  
Chibs lifted Thomas off of his chest while I jogged over to the bar to grab the diaper bag and bring it back. Chibs asked for a towel, and I handed him one that I found near the top of the bag. He laid the towel on the couch, then laid Thomas down and pulled the little guy’s shorts off. I fished out the wipes, a diaper, and the baby powder.  
  
“Did you make a mess for me, Tommy boy?” he asked.  
  
Thomas pouted and let out a wail.  
  
“Aw, now come on. It’s okay,” he cooed to the baby.  
  
I just stared at Chibs as he opened the diaper. Thomas’ wailing did not cease, but he lowered his volume as Chibs soothed him, and I just stared in disbelief. There was no doubt that Chibs was a natural.  
The smell of shit hit me like a truck and I gagged and had to walk away. Chibs, however, swiftly removed the dirty diaper, wadded it securely, and set it next to his wallet while he held the child’s ankles over his head with one hand, lifted his butt in the air, and wiped him clean. Once the smell had dissipated, I returned and handed the fresh diaper to Chibs. He slipped it underneath Thomas, powdered him, then wrapped the diaper around the boy and slipped his little shorts back on with the grace of a seasoned parent. If that had been me, I would have been covered in baby piss.  
Chibs took the towel out from under Thomas and tossed it onto the table, then grabbed Thomas’ hands, leaned over him, and kissed his cheek.  
  
“There, now that wasn’t so bad, was it? Now ya have a fresh nappy and you’re ready to go,” he said to the baby.  
  
Thomas’ eyes glittered as he smiled up at his Uncle Chibs. I smiled and watched as Chibs kissed his little fists and threatened to eat them off, kissing them and making the little boy squeal with laughter. I’m sure it tickled like almighty hell from his facial hair. I studied Chibs, admiring his way with this baby who was barely a year old, thoughts I had never wanted running through my mind.  
Tig entered the clubhouse a moment later. He nearly begged to hold Thomas, and Chibs passed the boy off to his Uncle Tiggy.  
  
“Ya touched him last. Ya gotta throw the diaper away,” Chibs said.  
  
Tig groaned and kissed Thomas’ cheek.  
  
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, annoyed.  
  
Chibs walked off to wash his hands.  
  
“We gotta go here in a minute, baby girl,” Tig said, “Gotta go pick up parts for your bike.”  
  
I nodded.  
  
“‘Kay. I’ll get ready.”  
  
Tig smiled and made a face at Thomas. Venus appeared out of the kitchen and whistled.  
  
“Hi, sweet baby,” she said to Tig, then waved to me, “Callie, come here.”  
  
I left Tig with Thomas and walked into the kitchen. Chucky was covered a baking dish with aluminum foil.  
  
“Last one’s finished,” he said.  
  
Venus nodded. Chucky announced he was heading to the garage and left us with several dishes full of Rice Krispie Treats.  
  
“I saw that,” Venus said to me.  
  
I looked up in confusion.  
  
“What?”  
  
Venus laughed.  
  
“Honey. Ever since Wendy handed that sweet little boy off to Filip, you’ve been giving that man baby eyes.”  
  
I scoffed.  
  
“No, I wasn’t!”  
  
Venus raised a perfectly waxed eyebrow at me and smirked.  
  
“Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.”  
  
I rolled my eyes.  
  
“Shut up! I was just watching him,” I said.  
  
“Mhmm. And you were having those stirrings and aches. Don’t say you weren’t.”  
  
“Venus!” I exclaimed, embarrassed, “You guys are only thinking that because Brooke is pregnant and all anyone ever talks about are babies.”  
  
Venus gave me a weird look.  
  
“Who else thought that?” she asked.  
  
I rolled my eyes.  
  
“Tigger.”  
  
Venus laughed.  
  
“Callie!” Tig called from the bar.  
  
I looked to see him waving. Venus walked up to me and put her index finger under my chin, making me look up.  
  
“You know we just like messing with you, baby,” she said.  
  
I smiled and nodded.  
  
“I know.”  
  
Venus smiled and kissed my cheek.  
  
“Go on,” she said.  
  
I hugged her and said goodbye before kissing her cheek and leaving to join Tig. He had passed Thomas back to Chibs, and told me to wait for him so he could say goodbye to his Old Lady. I grabbed my things, kissed Chibs, waved to little Thomas, and walked to my bike outside.  
  
***  
  
Tig walked into the kitchen and snitched a Rice Krispie treat. Venus kissed him softly and he smiled.  
  
“I’m assuming Callie saw how Chibby is with kids,” he said.  
  
Venus’ eyes widened and she nodded.  
  
“Oh, Lord, Alexander. She was just staring at that man, but I don’t blame her. He made me want to get pregnant!”  
  
Tig laughed, despite the little pain in his chest. Venus was incapable was having children, as she did not possess the equipment, but it made him weigh other options. Perhaps in the future.  
  
“Well, she knows to wait. Chibby, too. First we gotta deal with Ratty and Brooke,” he said.  
  
Venus chuckled and reached up to hug him. Tig kissed her cheek and she wished him a safe ride. He promised her he would be back by night for their dinner date they had planned, and with a passionate kiss that left him half-aroused, he left, saying goodbye to Chibs and Thomas along the way. He could not help but smile as he saw his brother feed the baby broken pieces of graham cracker as a snack. He decided then that only children from Chibs and Callie were allowed to call him anything that meant grandpa.


	34. The Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofread and edited

The Freak Riders had several legitimate businesses in Long Beach, California. One was a joint seafood restaurant they shared with allied MC The VII, and the others were things such as bars, a strip club, and a tattoo shop founded by former Freak Rider VP and current President, Milo Garfield, and late VII VP, Zero Owens. Milo ran the shop during the week, and Zero would come in on weekends to check in, weave the most insane tattoo ideas Milo had ever heard, and sit and pick at one of Milo’s guitars. Milo had been Zero’s best friend for many years, and he was the only one Zero trusted to tattoo him. He had also been Callie’s tattoo artist, and the three were at one time, joined at the hip. Especially after Zero’s diagnosis of heart disease. Milo considered Zero and Callie his nearest and dearest friends outside of his club, and had been rooting for little Callie to join The VII. He even had her ink drawn up. After Zero’s death, he never heard from her again.  
Since then, Milo had to play double-agent to keep his business running. He could work the tattoo shop on his own, but in order to keep his business with The VII, he had to slap on a fake smile. The boys had been different since Zero’s death. They had become increasingly deadlier, and pushing Callie away after years of close friendship was alarm enough. Milo had known something was wrong, and he did not like the way these “brothers” had started speaking of Zero, whom they had once loved so dearly. He had to pretend he agreed with every move Shane was making and every hateful word that L spat out. It made him sick to his stomach to even think of speaking ill of Zero, and he prayed every night that his lost friend would forgive him for the evil way he spoke of him to keep from having Jojo arrive in the middle of the night and slit his throat.  
Milo was sanitizing his station. Only one customer was in. A friend of the MC, getting her ribs tattooed with her son’s name. One of his artists had been tasked with the job. He did not have any clients until the afternoon, but he liked to come in, open up, and wait for walk-ins. Sometimes someone would come in and ask for a piercing, and all of these young teenage girls who wanted these goddamn minimalist tattoos come in all the time. They took all of 15 minutes and they were done. Money was money, of course, but Milo would rather sit for four hours working on portraits that meant something. Anything was better than poking a tiny arrow onto someone’s finger. They meant nothing.  
The front door of the shop opened with a chime. Milo tossed a paper towel in the trash and looked up to see a tall man enter, wearing a gray muscle tank and dark gray cargo shorts. His hair had been buzzed and was just starting to grow. He bore colorful tattoos down massive arms and the top bits of the Roman numeral VII could be seen poking on his shoulder. Milo took a deep breath as The VII’s President removed his shades. Milo changed his attitude and forced a smile.  
  
“Holy shit, Shane! What the hell are you doing up here?” he asked, walking over to the President.  
  
Shane smiled and pulled Milo into a hug.  
  
“Had to get away for a while, man. You busy?” he asked.  
  
Milo shook his head.  
  
“Nah. Need a touch up?” he asked, walking back to his station, Shane following.  
  
“No, man. Just need to blow off some steam,” he said.  
  
Milo inwardly cringed and outwardly laughed.  
  
“Come on back, brother. Let’s have a smoke,” he said.  
  
“Meh. I quit a long time ago,” Shane said.  
  
Milo looked back at Shane.  
  
“Then by all means, watch me,” he said teasingly.  
  
Shane smiled and followed the fellow President down a hallway, where Milo stopped at his office to grab a pack, and they walked out the back door. There were a couple of chairs set up in the rear parking lot, and an old table with an ashtray sat between them. Milo took one, and Shane, the other.  
  
“What’s been going on, man? I heard about Jojo,” Milo said, “I’m sorry.”  
  
That was no lie. He hated the little bastard, but with the bullshit of Project XMC killing his brother and President, AJ Clarence, he was glad Jojo killed the two that were after them.  
Shane sighed.  
  
“Yeah. Tino and L are up north, so right now, it’s just me. That’s why I needed to get away. Find someone to talk to,” he replied.  
  
Milo wished it was not him that he had chosen.  
  
“Well, you came to the right place, brother man. What the hell are T and L doing up north? New customers?”  
  
Shane’s lip curled in disgust.  
  
“Goddamn Callie,” he replied.  
  
Milo could not hide the look of horror on his face.  
  
“Callie?”  
  
“She bolted back in December,” Shane replied.  
  
Milo’s heart dropped. Callie’s mind was not entirely, shall we say, stable. She reacted on impulse, and reacted violently. Or at least, in a very extreme way. She was a very no bullshit type of person, and when she was fed up, she would rid herself of whatever it was before you could blink. Milo could not think of any reason she would bail, except for maybe one thing. He had seen her scars on her arms…  
  
“Why?” he asked Shane.  
  
Milo tapped a cigarette out of the pack, placed it between his lips and lit it.  
  
“Doesn’t she run your protection?” he asked.  
  
Shane nodded.  
  
“We think she decided to pipeline some of the cars up north. Most likely blew through Z’s money so fast, she went broke. We sent a Prospect after her and lost him up past Stockton. Sent Tino out there to find him, and he found that little bitch rolling with goddamn SAMCRO!”  
  
Milo coughed, and not on the toxic air filling his lungs.  
  
“SAMCRO?” he asked.  
  
“Found her out on the town with two of them. One was that Scottish bastard that took the reins after the shit with Teller. Thinking she’s doing business with them.”  
  
“Yeah, but the Sons run guns. They’ve done that for years. What would they want with cars?” Milo asked.  
  
Shane shrugged. Milo narrowed his eyes at the President, suspicious.  
  
“Do you have proof?” Milo asked.  
  
“Working on it. L and Tino are up there now to get her,” Shane replied.  
  
Milo shook his head.  
  
“Why don’t you just check Z’s warehouse? If she’s piping cars up north—“  
  
“They’re not hers to sell! She just keeps them safe until we find buyers!” Shane snapped.  
  
Milo angrily tapped ash into the tray.  
  
“Well, maybe you guys shouldn’t have pushed her away to begin with. It’s no wonder the goddamn XMC found you. Wouldn’t have happened if you inked her in,” Milo spat.  
  
Shane slammed his chair back into the wall and paced furiously.  
  
“We don’t need her!” he yelled.  
  
“Then what the fuck are you going after her for?” Milo shouted back.  
  
“Because she’s a rat!” Shane growled.  
  
Milo closed his mouth and his blood ran cold. He knew what that meant for her, and Shane never needed proof. If he decided you were a rat, whether it was true or not, you were out. L and Tino were not in Northern California to bring her back. They were there to kill her.  
  
“She’s just a liability, Milo. We can’t have her telling people like the Sons our business. It’s dangerous,” Shane said.  
  
Milo nodded.  
  
“I understand,” he said.  
  
But he hoped she did tell SAMCRO. He hoped that SAMCRO had a hit out on The VII. After everything Zero and Callie had told him throughout Zero’s last years, he wanted Shane’s cocky ass dead.  
After an hour, and shortly after Shane’s hostility died down, he left Z & M Tattoo and Piercing to head out to the gym, then go back home. Milo found himself sitting in his office, door locked, incense burning, going through a photo album loaded with pictures of himself, Zero, and Callie here and there. He did not believe for a second that Callie was piping cars up north. She had bolted for a reason. She had nothing up north except for her parents’ graves. Her family, being from Seattle, had a plot in Washington where every member of the Shepherd bloodline was to be buried. Callie’s half brothers, which were twice as old as she was, and most likely long gone with their own lives, were not close to their sister. Since Zero’s death, she was alone. Milo had wished he would have spoken with her when she was still around.  
He knew The VII feared Callie over anything. She was lethal. Her aim was deadly no matter what she used, and she had never once been arrested. Her record was clean among the bodies she had dropped, the things she had stolen, and the cocaine and illegal cars she had protected. She was the only one of the entire VII family with a clean record and a bloody past. Getting in bed with SAMCRO made her all the more deadly, and he understood his “brother’s” paranoia. She was little, fast, and smart. Milo had personally seen her jump from a tree, having no idea she had come on the run, and slammed an ax through a man’s skull before his finger squeezed the trigger and blew Zero’s brains out. She was their protector and their assassin. She took her job very seriously, which made these accusations all the more ridiculous. Callie did not give a shit about the product they moved. If she had, she would have handed it over already, and if she were suspicious of the club, she would have killed them all herself. She did not need SAMCRO, or anyone else to do the deed. This was something else entirely, and he would be damned if he let Lancaster Hanes and Valentino Venza murder her over the same paranoid bullshit Shane slaughtered many a Prospect over.  
He glanced at his cell phone on the desk, and wondered if Callie still had the same number.  
  
***  
  
“Callie, would you be still?” Tig snapped.  
  
“It feels like I’m going to fall!” I argued.  
  
Tig, Chibs and I were at TM this morning, finishing up the last bits of the Sportster. It had yet to be painted, and I had some custom parts ordered, but Tig decided to go ahead and put the entire thing together to make sure that, not only if it worked, but if I fit. So, Tig had me sit on it and put my hands and feet in position so we could see if any adjustments needed to be made. This meant sitting on it with the kickstand raised while he held it up, balancing for me. Let’s just say, I did not trust him.  
  
“Put your hands on the goddamn bars!” Tig growled.  
  
I held the gas tank for dear life and wriggled my feet.  
  
“Do you honestly believe I’d let a 600 pound bike fall of you?” he asked.  
  
“No, but I do believe you’d go far enough to scare me,” I replied.  
  
Tig just grinned. I felt a pair of hands go around my waist and I shuddered as I felt warm breath on my neck.  
  
“I’ve got ya, darlin,” he said, his gruff voice in my ear.  
  
I gasped in surprise.  
  
“Chibs, Jesus! I’m trying to get her focus!” Tig snapped.  
  
Chibs kissed my neck, and I had to put my feet back on the floor and my spine turned to rubber.  
  
“She’s gone,” Chibs said, proud of himself.  
  
Bastard…  
  
Tig groaned.  
  
“I’ll let you go back to the clubhouse with him and you can get it out of your system if you be still and do this,” he said.  
  
I laughed and recoiled away from Chibs’ mouth.  
  
“Okay, okay!”  
  
Chibs chuckled and lightly rubbed my shoulders.  
  
“I got the bike,” he said.  
  
I felt the bike move as he held the back end between his legs. Tig took the handlebars.  
  
“You got it?” Tig asked Chibs.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Tig looked back down at me.  
  
“‘Kay. Assume the position,” he said.  
  
I wrapped my hands around the grips and put my feet on the pegs, feeling shaky. I knew neither of them would let me fall, but I still felt uneasy. It was different being in the riding position with the bike turned off.  
  
“Is this a super low?” Chibs asked.  
  
Tig nodded and examined my hands.  
  
“That’s why I thought it’d be a perfect fit,” he replied, “How does it feel, baby girl?”  
  
I relaxed and let myself get a feel for the bike. I had never been on a Sportster before. The Suzuki was a little similar, however, it also required more of a lean forward. On this, I could sit up right, comfortably reach the handlebars, and my feet were in front of me, as if I were sitting in a chair, where on the other bike, it felt like I was riding a broomstick. This was way more comfortable.  
  
“I like it,” I said.  
  
I placed my feet on the floor and balanced the bike between my legs. Tig and Chibs let go of me.  
  
“No adjustments?” Tig asked.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
“I don’t think so,” I replied.  
  
My heels were just barely lifted. Tig smiled.  
  
“It looks like it was made for you,” he said.  
  
I smiled. Chibs put an arm around my shoulders and leaned down to my ear.  
  
“Ya look fuckin’ sexy on that bike,” he growled lowly.  
  
I shot him a look and could feel my cheeks burn. I was not entirely sure if Tig had heard Chibs’ comment or not, but either way, it went ignored.  
  
“Okay, Cal,” Tig said.  
  
I looked up at him and reluctantly from Chibs.  
  
“Your ignition is on the side,” Tig said, pointing to the ignition, which was just below the gas tank on my right.  
  
Tig pointed to the chrome pullback handlebars and listed everything, pointing to each item with his finger.  
  
“Right hand brake lever, throttle, tach, left clutch lever, and the gear-shift is on the left in front of the foot peg. Everything else is you already know.”  
  
I nodded and raised an eyebrow at him. I had not been truly excited about the bike until I had helped put blood, sweat, and tears into it, and he should have known my next question.  
  
“Where’s the keys?” I asked.  
  
Tig smiled and tilted his head.  
  
“Get ‘em, Chibby.”  
  
Chibs grinned and walked off quickly to grab the keys from the workbench.  
  
“Can I drive it around the lot?” I asked.  
  
Tig shrugged.  
  
“I don’t see why not. But take it easy just in case.”  
  
I nodded and looked up to see Chibs smiling and dangling the keys. I smiled and took them. They watched as I inserted the keys and turned the bike on. I carefully moved through the steps of starting it, making sure the lights on the tach lit up and shut off correctly, and then put the bike in neutral and started the engine.  
The engine hesitated at first, but soon responded and roared to life. I shuddered at the feeling. It had that classic Harley fart sound and its rumble caused my adrenaline to pump. Tig and Chibs smiled knowingly. I could ride or drive anything, but when I parked my ass on a Harley—a real bike, essentially, I'm home. The roar echoed back off of the metal walls of the garage. I grinned at the boys and Chibs laughed that huge, endless laugh of his.  
  
“Go for it!” Tig shouted.  
  
I revved the engine and recoiled, not expected the power. The rumbling bike shook me, the rev striking through me like lightning. I pressed on the clutch, pushed the bike down into first gear, then slowly let off and rolled forward. It rumbled out of the garage, and I turned and let it roll along into the old loading dock in front of the clubhouse. The slope was clear to ride in, and gave me an excuse to accelerate.  
I made several loops around the compound, getting a feel for the bike and thoroughly enjoying the power. The Suzuki did not compare. This crept into you like an invisible force, seeping through your hands and feet, and before you knew it, it was an incredible extension of your body. I understood why the boys preferred these bikes. Not always the most reliable, but still a pleasure to ride. It made me feel like a badass, even without the cool custom parts, and of course, paint.  
I looped back into the garage, shut the bike off, put the kickstand down, and tackled Tig with a hug. He laughed and kissed my forehead.  
  
“Like it that much?” he asked.  
  
“Yes!” I replied excitedly.  
  
Chibs, who was having a smoke and leaning against the workbench, gestured to the bike.  
  
“I’m sure with all the customizations and complete paint job, you’ll like it a lot more,” he said.  
  
“Hell of a lot more!” Tig agreed.  
  
I smiled up at Tig.  
  
“Thank-you for buying it for me.”  
  
Tig smiled and pulled me back for one more hug.  
  
“No problem, baby. You deserve it,” he said.  
  
He kissed my forehead and let me go as a car pulled in. He went to speak with the driver while I walked over to Chibs.  
  
“Ya looked beautiful on that bike, sweetheart,” he said.  
  
I slipped my arms around his torso and he leaned down to kiss me.  
  
“Can’t wait to to have ya ridin’ with us on that thing. It will be fuckin’ fantastic!”  
  
I laughed and he kissed me once more before my phone rang.  
  
“As soon as it’s finished, you and I are going. I don’t care where, but we’re hitting the road,” I said as I fished my phone out of my pocket.  
  
Chibs smiled.  
  
“Sounds like a plan.”  
  
I smiled and walked away from him to answer my phone, absently leaving the garage and walking to the picnic table where it was quiet.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Callie? Oh my God! You’re alive!” a surprised voice said.  
  
I narrowed my eyes. I did not recognize the voice.  
  
“Who is this?” I asked.  
  
“Callie, it’s Milo!”  
  
I shuddered. I looked around to make sure no one was within hearing range, then jogged up to the picnic table and sat on top.  
  
“Holy shit, Milo. Is this really you?” I asked in disbelief.  
  
“Yes! Where are you?” he asked.  
  
“Why?”  
  
Milo sighed.  
  
“I had to reach out to you. I didn’t even think you’d still be alive or even have this number any more,” he said, “Shit’s hit the fan, girl.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“I just talked to Shane, and trust me, I didn’t want to. He came up to Z & M. Apparently Tino and L are up north. Said he had them looking for you. Something about you ratting to SAMCRO about the cars.”  
  
I gritted my teeth.  
  
“Goddammit! Where up north?” I asked.  
  
“He didn’t specify. Callie, why the hell would they suspect you’re piping cars to SAMCRO?” he asked.  
  
“Because they’re paranoid little pricks!” I spat viciously, “Shane sent a few of his Prospects up here not that long ago. Long story short, I found out they wanted me because they think I bailed to seek revenge for what they did to Z.”  
  
“What’d they do to Z?” Milo asked in surprise.  
  
My eyes widened. Shit! He did not know!  
  
“You know Zero was planning on leaving the club because of his health, right?” I asked.  
  
“Yeah, he told me that,” he replied.  
  
“Okay. Shane was paranoid that as soon as he left, he would rat. They drugged him with oxy. He was dead before I found him.”  
  
“Jesus fucking Christ! I knew it! No wonder they pushed you away!”  
  
“They thought if I stayed close I would figure it out.”  
  
“Is that why you left?”  
  
“No! I was fucking sick of Huntington Beach. I was sick of everything. I decided to finally move back up north when Shane sent one of his Prospects after me. Caused me to crash outside Charming. The Sons found me. Patched me up. Milo, they gave me a second life here! I’m not here to start a war. If I had known, I would have cut their goddamn heads off!”  
  
“I believe you, Callie. You moved there?”  
  
“Yeah. I have a home here. Patched in with SAMCRO. Dream come true, really.”  
  
Milo chuckled.  
  
“I know that’s what you always wanted. God, Callie, I’m so sorry. I should have reached out to you after Z died, but there was so much going on.”  
  
“It’s okay. Did you say Tino and L were up north?  
  
Milo’s tone turned grim.  
  
“Yes. Callie, they’re going to kill you. They’ll kill you and they’ll go after SAMCRO,” he said.  
  
I growled.  
  
“Shit! Okay, Milo, listen to me. Don’t call me on this number again. Is this your cell?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“I’ll call you back in ten, alright?”  
  
“Got it.”  
  
I quickly hung up and flew back across the parking lot and into the garage. Chibs was walking my way, and I almost smacked into him. He caught me and looked down at me worriedly.  
  
“Hey, hey, hey. What’s the rush?” he asked.  
  
I tried to catch my breath.  
  
“We need a full table. Now!”  
  
Chibs did not question it, and rounded up the boys while I ran into the clubhouse to grab a burner and call Milo back. Chibs caught up with me as I typed in Milo’s phone number.  
  
“Who ya callin’?” he asked.  
  
I pressed the call button and looked up at him.  
  
“Freak Riders reached out. It’s about The VII,” I replied.  
  
Chibs groaned.  
  
“Jesus!” he said, then split off to find the rest of the club.  
  
We met in the next few minutes around the table. I stood at the head with Chibs and activated the speaker phone, then set the phone down on the table top. Chibs centered it.  
  
“Okay, Milo. I have the guys around the table. Tell them what you told me,” I said.  
  
“Okay. Shane Maddox, the Prez of The VII, reached out to me this morning and told me that Tino, his Sergeant at Arms, and L, his VP, are hunting for Callie. They believe she’s turned rat,” he explained.  
  
“When did he send them?” Chibs asked.  
  
“I don’t know, man. At least over 24 hours ago. He didn’t say when,” Milo replied.  
  
“Then they’re most likely here,” Tig said to Chibs, who nodded in agreement.  
  
“And ya have nothin’ to do with them? How can we trust ya?” Chibs asked.  
  
Milo sighed.  
  
“You’re just gonna have to believe me, man. Callie and Zero were good friends of mine. Zero owned half of my tattoo shop. Both of them helped me get it off the ground. I’ve already lost Zero. I don’t want these fuckers killing Callie, too.”  
  
Chibs raised an eyebrow at me.  
  
“Ya trust him?” he asked quietly.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Trust me, man. I want these guys dead for what they did, too,” Milo said.  
  
I leaned over the table, placing my hands on the top.  
  
“You think you can keep us updated?” I asked.  
  
“I’ll do anything you need, Cal,” he said.  
  
“‘Kay. Next time you have an update, call my personal cell. I’ll call you back on a burner. Understand?”  
  
“Hell yeah, girl.”  
  
“And see what you can do to keep Shane at bay,” I replied.  
  
“Absolutely. Callie, you be careful. They’ll be looking for your bike,” he said.  
  
I froze, a sudden realization flying into my head.  
  
“Yeah. I’ll be alright,” I said slowly.  
  
“Keep us posted,” Chibs said.  
  
“You got it.”  
  
Chibs closed the phone and looked up at me. His face changed from pissed to worried.  
  
“Sweetheart?” he asked.  
  
I let out a shaky breath. They were looking for a black sports bike. I was not the only one in Charming with one.  
  
“What was Juice riding that night?” I asked.  
  
Chibs eyes widened.  
  
“Oh, Jesus,” he breathed out, then quickly turned to me and grabbed my arm as I tried to walk away.  
  
“Callie, look at me.”  
  
“They were looking for that bike. It was dark. All they saw was a black sports bike and a Reaper and went for it!” I ranted.  
  
“Callie, it’s not your fault,” Chibs said strictly.  
  
“Yeah, baby, this isn’t on you,” Tig agreed.  
  
I just stared at him. If it was not for my connections with those bastards, my brothers would still be alive.  
  
“We all have detrimental connections, Cal,” Rane said.  
  
“Comes with the territory,” Happy said.  
  
Chibs pulled me closer, staring me dead in the eye with his jaw set and his eyes narrowed.  
  
“Don’t ya even begin to blame yourself for what happened! Juice and RJ are gone because of The VII. Same reason Zero’s gone. Not because of you. Because of their desperate paranoia. This ain’t on you, darlin’.”  
  
I sighed and looked down. Chibs reached up and gently took my chin between his fingers, making me look at him.  
  
“We’re gonna find the rat bastards, and we’re gonna kill ‘em. Ya understand me?”  
  
I nodded. Chibs stood and pulled me into a hug.  
  
“They’ll get theirs,” he said, kissing the top of my head.  
  
“Yeah,” Happy agreed, “They’re gonna die. Big time!”  
  
That made me smile, and my brothers laugh.  
  
“Yeah, they will,” I agreed.  
  
Chibs cell phone vibrated and he let go of me to answer.  
  
“I’ll hold ‘em down and you can cut their goddamn hearts out!” Tig said, excitement in his eyes.  
  
“Jesus,” Rat groaned.  
  
“Yeah, why?” Chibs asked, his tone causing us to look up in concern, “‘Kay.”  
  
He removed the phone from his ear and handed it to me.  
  
“Álvarez. Says he needs to speak with ya,” he whispered.  
  
I furrowed my eyebrows and took the phone, wondering what the hell the Mayan Prez would want with me.  
  
“Yeah?” I answered.  
  
“We think we may have someone you’ve been looking for,” came Marcus Álvarez’s carefully articulate voice.  
  
“Who?”  
  
“Didn’t get a name. Short guy. Black hair. Tattoos. Came into Diosa a few minutes ago. One of the girls spotted VII ink on him. Thought he might be of use to you,” he replied.  
  
My eyes widened.  
  
“Shit! He’s at Diosa?” I asked.  
  
“Yeah. He’s waiting for his girl to become available. Guess they’re having a special on mint flavored blowjobs.”  
  
I rolled my eyes. Tino. Leave it to him to get his goddamn rocks off after a kill.  
  
“Just one guy?” I asked.  
  
“Yeah. He’s alone.”  
  
“Did you see what he was riding?”  
  
“He wasn’t. Pulled up in a black Maserati,” he replied.  
  
Motherfucker! It was Tino!  
  
“Okay. We’ll be there in a minute. Make sure he’s kept busy.”  
  
“Can do.”  
  
I hung up and handed the phone back to Chibs.  
  
“Tino’s at Diosa getting his dick sucked. We gotta go.”  
  
Chibs eyes widened.  
  
“Shit! Let’s go,” he said.  
  
At that, all of us shot up from the table and barreled out the door.  
  
***  
  
Stockton was roughly a ten minute drive from Charming, as the little town was slapped right between Stockton and Lodi. The drive time was cut in half as we raced through cars, speeding behind Chibs down the 99. The traffic was between the morning rush and lunch rush, so exceeding the speed limit was not too dangerous at this time of day. I was surprised we did not see any cops, even though I just knew Sheriff Slut would be around every corner. I was not going to surrender, that was for sure! Not until Tino was dead.  
We ripped into the Diosa parking lot to find a shiny black Maserati Ghibli in the parking lot. We parked our bikes near the couple of Mayan Heritages sitting near the back. I jumped off my bike and glared daggers at the Mas, wanting to desperately key the damn thing.  
  
“Happy,” I said.  
  
“Yeah?” Happy asked gruffly as he pulled his helmet off.  
  
“Block any escape strategy,” I ordered.  
  
He nodded.  
  
“‘Kay. Quinn, Montez, Rat, back door. Tiggy, Cal and I will take the front,” Chibs instructed.  
  
We nodded, and with that, we split and ran up to the front, Tig entering first.  
  
Inside, all was business as usual. Álvarez was waiting patiently with his VP. I looked around, trying to find Tino. I was going to blow his goddamn head off.  
  
“Where?” Chibs asked quietly.  
  
“First room on the left,” Álvarez replied.  
  
Chibs tapped Tig’s arm.  
  
“Take an empty room and hide,” he ordered.  
  
Tig nodded and swiftly moved down the hall. Chibs turned to Álvarez.  
  
“Back us up, yeah?”  
  
The Mayan Prez nodded.  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“As soon as we trap him, get the girls away,” Chibs said.  
  
Álvarez nodded. Chibs pulled his gun out and waved for us to follow. I grabbed my gun and quickly followed him. A woman dressed in a tight blue number that left little to nothing to the imagination walked up to Chibs.  
  
“Lay low and I’ll move him. I’ll tell him another girl booked that room,” she said.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“‘Kay, darlin’.”  
  
We backed up around a corner, Chibs holding his arm out as if he knew as soon as I saw Tino, I would bolt. That was kind of true. I was pulling at the chain to get him. We listened as the escort apologized, and I heard Tino’s familiar voice for the first time in years. He kindly let the “mishap” slide and I heard footsteps across the carpet. Chibs peered around the corner. Down the hall, we could hear the escort apologizing again and asking for Tino to wait “just a minute” and she would return. Tino replied light-heartedly. I curled my lip. Of course he was being nice. He wanted that blowjob.  
The door closed, and the escort gave the signal. Chibs and I shot down the hall to the door. Inside was quiet until we heard a crash and Tig screaming.  
  
“Drop the goddamn gun! Drop it!”  
  
Chibs held his hand up as we listened. It took all of me not to charge.  
  
“Chibs!” Tig shouted.  
  
Chibs opened the door and pointed his gun. I followed, holding my gun up as I appeared around Chibs’ backside. When I saw that Tig had The VII’s Sergeant at Arms wrestled to his knees, I grinned. Oh, the irony.  
  
“Callie,” Tino squeaked out.  
  
Chibs slammed the door closed and blocked it. Tig kicked Tino’s gun away, keeping his own gun pressed into Tino’s head, and his dagger on his neck. Tino’s hands were up in surrender and his eyes were glued on me.  
  
“Hello, Tino,” I said lowly.  
  
It was then I noticed that Tino had already been preparing himself for service, and I laughed.  
  
“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to get caught with your pants down?” I asked.  
  
“I didn’t feel like watching him get himself hard,” Tig said.  
  
“Oh, I don’t blame you,” I said to Tig.  
  
Tino whimpered. I lowered my gun and crouched down in front of the man that, at one time, had been one of my best friends and lab partner in high school. He had not changed much since, but I was amused by the beard he had grown. Perhaps an attempt to hide his identity, but I knew his face anywhere.  
  
“You’re going to answer everything I ask you, Tino, and you will not protest or lie. If you try to argue or I suspect you’re lying, I will start cutting fingers off. Besides, you have no escape, so don’t even try. Understand?” I asked.  
  
Tino nodded.  
  
“I’ll tell you everything, Callie. Just please, don’t kill me,” he begged.  
  
I smiled. Tino was never very good at this. He dealt with the money end of The VII’s business and drove the cars. Killing? Keeping a straight face? Not breaking? Let’s just say it has never been his forte. Tino was a pussy. Jojo was almost as bad, but he could put up a fight. He was like a trapped raccoon, but Tino? He would play dead if you let him.  
  
“That remains to be seen,” I said, “Why are you here?”  
  
Tino swallowed fearfully.  
  
“To find you. Shane thinks you ratted,” he replied.  
  
“About what? The goddamn cars?” I asked.  
  
Tino shook his head.  
  
“No, he doesn’t give a shit about that. He thinks that you ratted about Zero’s death. We thought you might be piping cars up here in exchange for SAMCRO to put a hit on us.”  
  
“And what do I know about Zero’s death?” I asked, mocking innocence, “I was told that it was heart failure.”  
  
Tino swallowed.  
  
“Or perhaps, it was something much more sinister. Perhaps Shane got worried when we started saving the lives of Prospects that did not deserve to die. Tell me, T, how did Zero die? For real?”  
  
Tino gritted his teeth.  
  
“Oxy,” he replied.  
  
I let out an aggravated breath.  
  
“He was leaving the club, Callie. He could not leave knowing what we know. Neither could you!”  
  
“I was never a member, Tino.”  
  
“No, but you were an Old Lady. It was expected of you.”  
  
“I swore no oath. And as far as I’m concerned, I can say anything I want. You killed a brother. It would have been different if he had ratted, but your secrets were never exposed. You killed a brother, and you lied. I have no regrets for what my club knows about you people.”  
  
Tino looked around at Chibs and Tig.  
  
“I especially don’t have any regrets if my suspicions are correct. Several nights ago, one of our Prospects and a brother was gunned down in the street. One of them said they saw tattoos. Now, answer me truthfully. Was that you?”  
  
Tino bit his lip and nodded.  
  
“And L,” he replied.  
  
I snarled and grabbed Tino’s neck. Tino did not move as he choked.  
  
“Where’s L?” I asked.  
  
Tino coughed.  
  
“Heading back to Huntington to regroup. Shane’s bailing Jojo out.”  
  
“Seems a little irresponsible to leave one of your men in enemy territory,” Chibs said.  
  
“Who shot RJ?” I asked.  
  
Tino let out a soft cry.  
  
“Answer her!” Tig snapped.  
  
“L!” he replied, voice strangled.  
  
“And Juice?” I asked.  
  
“I’m guessing that’s the Mexican,” Tino said.  
  
“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter! Was it you?” Chibs barked.  
  
“Yes,” Tino whispered, “He got a shot in me, but L had me kill him.”  
  
I let out a shaky breath.  
  
“Callie, I didn’t kill Zero. I only gave them the idea of using oxy. L drugged him. It was L,” Tino finished.  
  
I nodded, then cocked my gun and raised it. I wanted to blow his brains out, but when I saw the look of fear in his eyes, I paused. I lowered my gun and stood.  
  
“Where’s the keys to the Mas?” I asked.  
  
“Pocket,” Tino whispered.  
  
Chibs leaned down and fished everything out of his pockets, taking a chunk of cash and handing it to me. I folded it, put it in the pocket inside of my cut, then took the car keys.  
  
“I’ll pull around to the back. Tiggy, I want you to take him, crash him in it. Make sure he goes into cardiac arrest. I want this bastard to feel what Zero felt,” I said lowly.  
  
Tig nodded.  
  
“Absolutely, baby. Chibby, why don’t you do the honors?” he asked.  
  
Chibs smiled.  
  
“My pleasure,” he said.  
  
He walked in front of Tino, grabbed the front of his shirt, and head-butted him, knocking the Sergeant at Arms out cold. I smiled. That’s my hard-headed Scot.  
I took the keys back out, putting my gun back inside my cut, and met up with Álvarez.  
  
“We good?” he asked.  
  
I sighed and nodded.  
  
“Yeah. We’re getting him out of here. Thank you for calling me. I appreciate it,” I replied.  
  
Álvarez smiled.  
  
“No problem. I really didn’t appreciate his arrogance, anyway,” he said.  
  
I smiled at that.  
  
“If you need anything, call,” I said.  
  
He nodded. I began to walk away when I spotted the escort in the blue dress. I stopped her and produced the cash Chibs had taken from Tino.  
  
“For your trouble,” I said.  
  
Her eyes lit up.  
  
“Thank-you!” she said.  
  
“You’re welcome,” I replied, and walked out the door to find Happy leaning against the Maserati.  
  
He looked up and I tossed him the keys.  
  
“Pull up to the back. Tig’ll take it from there,” I said.  
  
Happy nodded and unlocked the car. Chibs came out the front door and walked up to me.  
  
“Ya okay?” he asked.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Yeah. I’m good. How’s the head?” I asked.  
  
Chibs smiled.  
  
“Didn’t feel a thing.”  
  
He took my shoulders before sliding his arms down mine.  
  
“Ya ride the Dyna until this blows over, ya hear? It’s a little tall, but ya should be able to handle it.”  
  
I nodded.  
  
“One down,” I said with a slight smile.  
  
Chibs smiled warmly and kissed my forehead.  
  
“I’m proud of ya,” he said.  
  
I smiled and hugged him, but I did not feel as proud of myself as he was. Granted, I thought I handled it all well, but there was a nagging feeling in my chest.  
  
“We’re gonna take care of the rest. For now, let’s go home,” he said.  
  
I just nodded. The Maserati, our VP behind the wheel, pulled out onto the road and drove back to Charming. Happy and Quinn followed behind. The rest of us prepared to head home as well. I knew by the end of the day, Juice’s death would be avenged, and as soon as I got my hands on fucking L. Hanes, RJ and Zero’s as well. Then drop Shane and Jojo, stopping the bloodshed and finishing the job. All four deserved it.  
  
Strike 3 for The VII.


	35. Shenanigans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofread and edited.

I sat curled up on the couch, my eyes locked onto an adult cartoon on the television. The room was dark. In fact, the entire house was dark, excluding the light from the kitchen, which flooded the entryway to the living room. I could hear Chibs’ voice over the sound of the TV and random noises as he moved around. Tig’s large frame was in the doorway, blocking some of the light entering the room. He and our Prez were in a conversation I wanted no part of. The deed was done, and Tig and Chibs were having a beer and sharing details. I focused hard on the characters on the TV and wished the boys’ voices away. For some reason, speaking of Tino made me sick to my stomach.  
  
“Well, I’m gonna head home. I’m sure there will be plenty to do tomorrow,” Tig spoke.  
  
“Aye,” Chibs replied, “Ride safe.”  
  
“Yeah. I’m gonna go say goodbye to the little one,” he said.  
  
I heard no more, and pretended like I had not been eavesdropping when I felt a hand on my back. I looked up, having to bend my head all the way back up to look up at Tig.  
  
“Hey,” he said softly, cupping my cheeks and kissing my forehead, “You be good and take care of Chibby, ‘kay?”  
  
I nodded.  
  
“I will. Love you,” I replied.  
  
“Love you, too, baby girl,” he said, lightly tousling my hair before turning to leave.  
  
I turned my focus back to the television, listening to the rumble of his Dyna fade away. I became engrossed in the cartoon once more when I heard Chibs enter, his socked feet softly thumping against the wooden floor as he cross it.  
  
“You’ve been awfully quiet, sweetheart,” he said.  
  
I felt the couch cushions slope behind me and long arms snake around my middle. I turned in his arms, putting my back against his forearms and the arm of the couch and tucked my legs up to my chest. He watched me with curiosity and a hint of concern. His eyebrow arched and he tucked the longest side of my hair behind my ear.  
  
“Ya okay?” he asked.  
  
I shrugged and looked down at my knees. He pulled an arm back and slipped a hand in the bend of my legs, lightly pulling and making me lay my legs across his lap. I smiled as he wrapped the arm around my legs and kissed my cheek.  
  
“Tell me what’s wrong, love,” he said softly.  
  
I felt my resolve shatter into a million pieces, his loving tone breaking me immediately. Not that I would keep anything from him.  
  
“I just…regret not blowing his brains out now,” I admitted.  
  
Chibs smiled.  
  
“He deserved a slow death for what he did to Juice, though,” he replied.  
  
I nodded and looked away.  
  
“I just can’t believe I couldn’t do it! I’ve never not been able to drop someone. Does that…does that make me weak?” I asked, my question ending in a whisper.  
  
Chibs shifted, settling between me and the back of the couch, and took my hand.  
  
“How long did ya know Tino?” he asked.  
  
I looked up at the ceiling.  
  
“Shit. Since the 4th grade, man,” I replied.  
  
He nodded.  
  
“You’ve been friends since then?”  
  
I nodded sadly.  
  
“He was one of my best friends. Always a nice kid. Even when the club formed, he was still the same old Tino. Guess time changes pretty fast,” I replied.  
  
“So ya see? Ya have a lot of history with these guys. I don’t blame ya for handin’ him over to Tiggy.”  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Next time I get my hands on one of them, though, heads will roll,” I replied.  
  
Chibs smiled and kissed my forehead.  
  
“Aye,” he agreed.  
  
He nuzzled his face against the side of my head. I smiled and closed my eyes, taking in his warmth as the sticky feeling of regret began to fade. Spend enough time with this man, and I could forget the world.  
  
“Ya wanna make some popcorn? Watch a scary movie? Get your mind off of it?” he asked, “‘Cause if I have to hear the theme song to _South Park_ one more time, I’m gonna put a fist through the TV.”  
  
I laughed at that. They were running a marathon, and the theme song played every 30 to 45 minutes, depending on the episode. So far, it had played a total of three times.  
  
“Yeah, sure. You have some scary movies?” I asked.  
  
He smiled proudly.  
  
“Believe it or not, love, I have quite the collection,” he said cockily.  
  
I snorted.  
  
“Fine. But I must warn you, I don’t get scared of horror movies, so if you’re expecting me to start screaming and climb all over you and be like, ‘Oh God, Filip! Turn it off! I’ll have nightmares!’,” I said, throwing my arms around his neck and clawing the back of his shirt, “then you can forget it.”  
  
Chibs burst out laughing.  
  
“Deal,” he said, “but I promise ya, this one is a little scary.”  
  
I smirked.  
  
“We’ll see.”  
  
Chibs laughed and sat up, offering a hand to help me up.  
  
“Come on. Let’s make some fuckin’ popcorn.”  
  
We nearly skipped off to the kitchen like two little kids, made our popcorn, and grabbed some drinks before returning to the living room.  
The movie started off relatively boring. Your typical cheesy horror flick. A lone, young woman buys an abandoned ranch house and all hell breaks loose. The movie itself was from the 70s, but despite its age, it did have a scare factor I was not prepared for. When we started the film, I sat in front of Chibs, his arm around my shoulders and the bowl of popcorn between us. As it progressed, I found myself sitting behind him, peeking over his shoulder and hugging a pillow. He had become too engrossed in the movie to notice until I grew a pair and scooted closer to his back and peered over his shoulder. He saw the movement out of the corner of his eye and cast a sideways glance to me.  
  
“You’re not scared, are ya?” he asked teasingly.  
  
I shook my head. I’m sure my fear was evident, but I was not about to say anything!  
  
He turned back to the movie for maybe a total of five minutes before the music changed to a minor key as the main woman was sneaking up to a shed with a flashlight, looking for the source of a noise. She reached for the door handle, and as soon as she did, Chibs jumped and screamed at me. I yelped and ducked into the back of the couch. He howled with laughter.  
  
“I hate you!” I shouted into the cushions, “I fucking hate you, you bastard!”  
  
Chibs laughed and turned around to grab my sides.  
  
“I thought ya weren’t scared, huh?” he asked.  
  
I squealed as he started to tickle my sides.  
  
“I thought ya said ya don’t get scared, Cal? What is this? What is this shit?”  
  
I fought against him as I rocked onto my back and tried to squirm away.  
  
“Chibs! Chibs, stop!”  
  
He smiled and grabbed my hands, moving onto his knees and looming over me. I looked up at him and smiled.  
  
“Ya also said ya weren’t ticklish,” he said.  
  
I grinned.  
  
“And you just had to test that, didn’t you?” I asked teasingly.  
  
He just smiled. I grabbed his shoulders to lift myself up.  
  
“You hard-headed man,” I said, then lightly butted his forehead.  
  
He grinned and kissed me. I briefly wondered if he was ticklish, and was pleasantly surprised to see his shirt had ridden up. I lightly grabbed his side and he burst out laughing and nearly fell on me. Well! Hard-headed and ticklish!  
Chibs grabbed my wrists, held them above me head, and gave me this predatory grin—the movie forgotten.  
  
***  
  
I walked down to the mailbox the next morning after my shower to get the mail we had forgotten to get yesterday. Dear Filip was busy making breakfast, and the coffee was not ready, so I gladly volunteered.  
It was cool this morning, and clouds covered the sky. They would clear up within an hour, and the day promised 60 degree temperatures, but it was cool out this morning as I padded down the gravel drive in only my socks. I did not have the attention span to hunt for my tennis shoes. I decided I could handle the minefield of sharp rocks, and walked out onto the asphalt to the black mailbox. Inside were a few envelopes, a card, and a magazine. The magazine was a motorcycle gear catalog, and the card was for the water bill. The next was some sort of insurance bullshit, but the last two were handwritten, and one was addressed to me. I did not get any mail except for stuff for my bikes and cars, as well as my phone bill, but never a letter. I quickly opened mine as I walked up to the carport and set the other pieces of mail on the trunk of the Challenger.  
I opened the letter to find soft, stock paper, folded with lace and a bow. When I opened it, I smiled. I should have known what it was.  
  
“ _We invite you to celebrate the marriage of George Skogstrom to Brooke Putner on Saturday, April 4th, 2015, at 5:00 P.M. at the Wahewa Reservation. Reception to follow._ ”  
  
I smiled and fished out the next piece of paper, which was actually a handwritten note. I opened it to see neat handwriting in blue ink.  
  
“ _Dear Callie,  
  
You may decline, but I would like you to be one of my bridesmaids. I’ve asked Venus and Lyla, and Wendy to be my Maid of Honor. I need at least one more female. Please let me know. My cell number is below.  
Sincerely,  
Brooke_”  
  
I sighed and folded the paper. Oh Lord!  
  
I walked back in through the side door and into the kitchen. Breakfast was ready, and Chibs was standing in the door frame of the back porch having a smoke.  
  
“Look what we got!” I sang.  
  
Chibs looked up curiously. I walked over to him and handed him his invitation. He read the address and smiled.  
  
“Brooke wants me to be a bridesmaid,” I said, “Which means my ass will have to be in a dress.”  
  
Chibs burst out laughing.  
  
“You’ll have to wear it under your cut. Or, I guess your jacket. Rat wants the club to wear blackouts,” he said.  
  
I snorted and walked over to the counter to load a plate.  
  
“Well, I’ll proudly wear my colors and dress clothes, but not a _dress_!”  
  
There will only be one time in my life where I will allow myself to wear a dress…dress and my colors. Just not as a bridesmaid.  
  
“Why not?” he asked.  
  
“I don’t like them. My short ass in a dress?” I asked with a disgusted snort.  
  
Although, Brooke was just an inch shorter than I was, but she was very petite. I was broad-shouldered for a girl, my hands were weathered and scarred from years of punching fools and riding without gloves. I had hardly an ass and no hips to speak of. Hell, my only curves were my chest and thighs. The rest was just muscle, if you could consider it any kind of significant muscle mass. I might as well be a boy.  
I was never self-conscious until it came to shit like that.  
  
“You could wear a dress,” Chibs said.  
  
I set a couple of biscuits on my plate and opened up the tub of butter.  
  
“I know. I just don’t like to.”  
  
Chibs shut the sliding door and walked up behind me, sliding an arm around my waist.  
  
“I don’t blame ya, darlin’. I hate tuxes. Mostly because I was never able to afford one when I was younger, but I see where you’re comin’ from.”  
  
I finished with the butter and smiled as he kissed my cheek. Chibs poured us some coffee and we moved over to the table.  
  
“Where’s the reservation at?” I asked, sitting at my spot across from him.  
  
“Just outside of Charmin’. Chief is a friend of the club. The tribe used to make ammo for us. It’s actually really nice out there,” he said.  
  
I nodded with a mouthful of food, swallowing before speaking.  
  
“I didn’t know Rat’s name was George,” I said.  
  
Chibs smiled.  
  
“George ‘Ratboy’ Skogstrom,” he said, then sipped his coffee.  
  
I laughed. It sounded so weird to me.  
  
Chibs and I fell silent as we ate before Chibs broke the silence with a question that nearly made me choke.  
  
“Where is your ideal wedding location?” he asked.  
  
I could feel a piece of biscuit nearly travel down the wrong tube, and had to quickly take a sip of my coffee to ward off the inevitable coughing fit.  
  
“Mine?” I asked, my voice strangled.  
  
He nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. I looked down at my plate and cleared my throat. That was a strange question. No one had ever asked me that before.  
  
“I don’t know. Never thought about it,” I replied.  
  
His eyes narrowed.  
  
“What about with Zero?” he asked.  
  
I shrugged.  
  
“I let him pick,” I replied.  
  
Chibs stared at me in disbelief.  
  
“Aren’t weddin’s usually the bride’s day?” he asked.  
  
I smiled softly.  
  
“He was dying, Chibs. I let him do whatever he wanted.”  
  
Chibs frowned, and our moods soured.  
  
“Shit. I forgot about that. I’m sorry,” he said quietly.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“It’s okay.”  
  
Chibs smiled meekly.  
  
“What did he pick?” he asked.  
  
I smiled fondly and looked to the pond beyond the porch.  
  
“The beach. He loved the beach,” I replied.  
  
Chibs smiled.  
  
“I’m guessin’ ya had a dress picked out,” he said.  
  
I shook my head. He probably believed that was the reason I hated dresses, but that was not true.  
  
“We were more focused on his health issues. Trying to find a surgeon that would work on him,” I replied.  
  
Chibs nodded slowly.  
  
“Believe me, he would have left it all to me if he had been healthier,” I replied.  
  
Chibs smiled again.  
  
“Where would ya have picked?” he asked curiously.  
  
I shrugged.  
  
“Somewhere pretty. Not so sunny, you know?”  
  
He nodded. I bit into the last of my food and chewed thoughtfully.  
  
“I never think about it much, but I see some place green. Outside. Big castle,” I continued.  
  
Chibs set his fork down with an amusing clink.  
  
“I knew it! I knew ya were gonna insert somethin’ extravagant!” he laughed.  
  
I raised an eyebrow at him.  
  
“Well then, I have an extravagant imagination,” I retorted.  
  
Chibs smiled and shook his head.  
  
“A castle?” he asked.  
  
“Or like, a historic hotel. I don’t know!”  
  
Chibs laughed.  
  
“Fucking making fun of me,” I grumbled before drinking the end of my coffee.  
  
Chibs’ phone rang.  
  
“Hey! I’m not makin’ fun of ya, love,” he said, before checking the caller I.D. and answering, “Hey.”  
  
I set my silverware down and stood with my dishes. Chibs stood up and took them before I could take a step further. I smiled and quietly thanked him before receiving a peck on the lips.  
  
“…Well, I can’t imagine why,” Chibs said teasingly to whoever was on the end of the line.  
  
I pushed my chair in and walked over to the counter to put the butter and milk away.  
  
“…When?…Always such a demandin’ bitch…”  
  
I closed the refrigerator door and turned to Chibs as he rinsed a plate.  
  
“Ya tell her I’m spendin’ time with my Old Lady, and I’ll be there on my own goddamn time…No! She ain’t got nothin’! There’s no reason I need to bend for her…Exactly!…Tell her to fuckin’ wait. I’ll get there when I get there. I mean, we’ll leave in a minute, but she doesn’t need to know that…Just tell her to wait and that ya don’t know when I’ll be there…’Kay…Bye.”  
  
I folded my arms on the island and leaned against it.  
  
“Our favorite sheriff?” I asked.  
  
Chibs closed his phone and sighed.  
  
“Aye. She’s at TM. Has some information on the hit and run and some questions about a car wreck that occurred last night,” he replied.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“She think we had something to do with it?” I asked.  
  
He snorted.  
  
“Ya wanna find out?” he asked.  
  
I grinned. Chibs walked around the island, cupped my cheek and leaned down to kiss me.  
  
“Go get dressed. I’ll warm up the Dyna,” he replied.  
  
I just smiled and walked up to him to claim his mouth as mine.  
  
“Ya continue and we won’t be goin’ anywhere anytime soon,” he said lowly before his lips crashed into mine.  
  
I parted and patted his chest before leaving him to simmer in the doorway.  
  
“Don’t want to let her torture our boys for too long,” I said.  
  
I could hear him groan. He was not the only one that got to tease.  
  
***  
  
It was around half an hour between the time Tig called about Althea, and the time we arrived at TM. A police cruiser was parked among some of the cars on the far wall, and as I rode in behind Chibs, I could see a familiar woman, black uniform, aviators, hair in a bun, standing under the awning in front of the door of the clubhouse. My brothers were sitting and standing, some having a smoke, and all hellbent on not letting the sheriff a step further. I parked beside Chibs, backing his Dyna beside the other motorcycles. He smiled at me with darkened eyes as I dismounted. I smirked and set my helmet on the tank. I hoped he did not plan on getting used to me riding it, because I did not necessarily like the Dyna.  
  
“Like what you see, sweetheart?” I asked suggestively.  
  
Chibs smiled.  
  
“Ya look sexy on anythin’ ya ride, love.”  
  
I smiled and waited until he was standing to walk with him to the clubhouse. We walked by Althea without a word, and I noticed fading bruises on her face. I could not see her eyes, as they were shielded, but I knew she was glaring at me.  
  
“Riding the King’s steed?” she asked.  
  
I turned back to her as I followed Chibs inside the clubhouse to put my bag up.  
  
“And the King,” I said, reminding her whose territory she was stepping into.  
  
The boys roared with laughter, Tig’s laugh being the loudest. Chibs and I walked inside and hung our things on the coat rack. Chibs shot me a look of shock.  
  
“Fiesty, are we?” he asked.  
  
“Just showing my teeth,” I replied.  
  
Chibs took my arms and turned me to face him.  
  
“Just don’t break any today. Behave,” he said.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Always,” I replied.  
  
He laughed, knowing if I was poked just right, I would fly off the handle. I would keep myself in check today, though, as I did not feel like getting arrested.  
We walked back outside and I walked over to Tig, hugging him and kissing his cheek, as a greeting and a thank-you.  
  
“Hey, darlin’,” he said softly.  
  
Chibs climbed up on top of the picnic table, lit a cigarette and turned slightly to the side so he could see Althea, but make it a point that he did not give a damn that she was here. I sat beside Tig and perched my chin on Chibs’ leg.  
  
“Can we help ya, Sheriff?” Chibs asked around the stick in his mouth.  
  
Tig swatted my shoulder and leaned down to my ear.  
  
“You’ll say anything to make that woman pissed off at you,” he whispered.  
  
I smirked.  
  
“I only speak the truth,” I replied.  
  
Tig rolled his eyes and lightly nudged me.  
  
“I figured as much,” he said to me, then looked up at Althea, “We didn’t do it. Whatever it is.”  
  
Althea took a deep breath.  
  
“I have some news that you may find interesting and I was hoping you could answer some questions of mine,” she said, irritated.  
  
“Choose wisely,” Tig said.  
  
Chibs passed his cigarette to me. I took it and he rubbed the back of my head.  
  
“I was wondering if maybe you guys serviced a wreck that happened last night. Black Maserati flew off the highway. Totaled the car. Just outside of Stockton,” she said.  
  
“It would have been Stockton wreckers. We only service Charming,” Rane said.  
  
She nodded and clasped her hands in front of her.  
  
“Well, I wasn’t called to the wreck last night, but I thought I would help and see where the car ended up.”  
  
“Believe us, we’d know if a wrecked Maserati came through here,” Rat said.  
  
Althea nodded.  
  
“Well, the driver was identified as a Valentino Venza. Coroner suspected a massive heart attack,” she said.  
  
Chibs clicked his tongue as I handed the smoke back.  
  
“Tha’s unfortunate,” he said.  
  
Althea scoffed at his attitude.  
  
“Curiously enough,” she said, her voice taking a snappy tone that would have her back in the dentist’s office if she did not cool it, “Mr. Venza’s blood was found at the scene of the hit and run. The bullet found in Mr. Ortiz was a match for a gun registered to Mr. Venza. However, the bullets found in Mr. Richards were not the same, so it’s safe to assume that Mr. Venza was not the only one at the scene. Now, I did some research on Mr. Venza and he was sporting club ink. Apparently he was part of an MC called The VII. Roman numerals. The club is from SoCal, which leads me to wonder why a club like that would be up here hunting down your guys.”  
  
“Dunno,” Chibs said, “But if ya can find the other bastard, it’d be appreciated.”  
  
Althea crossed her arms over her chest.  
  
“Any information will be helpful, Filip,” she said, clearly annoyed with us.  
  
Rat, who was focused on Althea, did not notice Tig lick his finger and slowly reach across the table to insert it into his ear. Rat jumped, causing half of us to giggle. Rat growled and tried to lash out at Tig. Chibs kicked their arms as they started to play fight.  
  
“What?” Tig asked innocently.  
  
“Would you keep your goddamn fingers to yourself? Jesus Christ! I don’t even want to know where they’ve been!” Rat snapped.  
  
We laughed at that.  
  
“Yeah,” Chibs agreed sarcastically with Althea, “Any information would help.”  
  
Rat had turned away, and I reached over to tickle the hair on the nape of his neck. Rat jumped to his feet and scratched at his neck while we laughed. Althea gritted her teeth.  
  
“How mature,” she commented.  
  
I took Chibs’ cigarette away from him so I could finish it off.  
  
“Sounds like ya got all the information ya need. SoCal MC running around killing people. Sure ya can find enough on them to arrest them without murder, anyway,” Chibs said.  
  
Althea nodded, pissed we were not cooperating.  
  
“That may be so, but next time I come back, I would appreciate a little bit more information,” she said.  
  
“Next time you come back, Sheriff, it better be with news that you arrested the bastard that killed RJ,” I snapped.  
  
Althea set her jaw.  
  
“Of course,” she said stiffly, “You guys have a good day.”  
  
With that, she turned on her heel and marched her uptight ass back to her cruiser. I snapped my teeth at her. Chibs covered my mouth with his hand.  
  
“Callie, stop it,” he laughed.  
  
We waited until she was gone before anyone spoke.  
  
“I guess we have wedding plans to discuss, Rat,” Chibs said.  
  
Rat nodded.  
  
“Table?” he asked.  
  
Chibs slid down from the top of the table and sat behind me, straddling the bench and putting an arm around me.  
  
“Let’s stay out here. It’s nice out,” he replied.  
  
I flicked the cigarette out and leaned into him.  
  
“Did you guys get the invitations?” Rat asked.  
  
We nodded.  
  
“Okay. Callie, Brooke wanted you to call her.”  
  
I nodded.  
  
“I will,” I promised.  
  
Rat nodded.  
  
“Do you have any idea who you want to do what?” Tig asked.  
  
Rat sat back down.  
  
“Well, I spoke with Wendy. Brooke would like Abel to be the ring bearer. She’s nailing down stuff with her girls. Her dad will walk her down the aisle, so the only one who really doesn’t have their shit together is me.”  
  
“Who would you like, man?” Happy asked.  
  
Rat looked to Tig and smiled.  
  
“I want Tig as my best man,” he said.  
  
Tig’s face lit up.  
  
“What? Really?” he asked.  
  
Rat nodded.  
  
“Then I want Chibs, Hap, and Quinn as my groomsmen. I think Brooke was settling with four girls, so, you know. Make it even,” he replied.  
  
“Hell yeah, brother!” Rane said enthusiastically.  
  
Rat smiled.  
  
“I think I’ll wear my normal colors. The rest of the club wear their blackouts. Stand out a little bit,” he replied, “We have catering almost set, and we’re hiring the band today. So, we should be set.”  
  
“Then we gotta plan for a baby shower. Pink or blue?” Tig asked.  
  
Rat smiled, embarrassed.  
  
“I don’t know what the plans are for that. I do know that the color is blue,” he said.  
  
“It’s a boy?” Tig asked.  
  
Rat nodded. The guys erupted and high-fived Rat.  
  
“Felix George Skogstom. That’s what Brooke and I have decided.”  
  
“We’ll just call him Mini Mouse,” Tig replied.  
  
We just laughed, and Rat rolled his eyes.  
  
***  
  
I met up with Brooke at Red Woody that afternoon. Lyla was working on editing the next production, and had a break in her schedule to look at dresses. As a rule, no one was to ride alone, and Tig and Chibs got into an argument over who would escort me to Stockton. They were bored at TM. They wanted an excuse to ride. I did not care who came, and told them that after I used the bathroom, I was leaving and one of them better be out there with me. I was escorted by both.  
Wendy had almost everything down and ready to go. Brooke had her dress already, and Venus was taking charge of decorations. It was all down to the bridesmaids. Brooke wanted us in black, which was fine with me. However, the boys had more than one opinion about _which_ dress.  
  
“I like that one!” Tig said, pointing to a simple knee-length dress in the catalog with a neckline that plunged way too deep.  
  
“We have decided on knee-length,” Wendy said, “But we need to keep the neckline modest.”  
  
“What if we wear just similar dresses?” Lyla suggested, “Black with black heels?”  
  
Wendy nodded. I pouted and propped my elbow on the top of the bar.  
  
“So, club members just wear nice clothes under their patches? Is that how these kinds of weddings work?” I asked.  
  
Wendy looked up at me and her shoulders immediately dropped.  
  
“Oh, shit, Callie. I forgot you were patched,” she said.  
  
“How does it usually work? What did Gem used to do?” Tig asked.  
  
“Mom wore whatever the hell she felt like,” Chibs replied, “But club members must wear nice clothes and their cuts. In Callie’s case, her jacket, since we’re wearin’ blackouts.”  
  
“Well, I mean, you could wear the jacket over your dress,” Brooke said.  
  
“Yes, dear, but the club rides in. Wouldn’t be very lady-like spread eagle over a Harley,” Venus said.  
  
I knew what was going to be said before it happened, and I wished Venus had never said anything.  
  
“You’re wearin’ a dress!” Chibs exclaimed.  
  
Tig put his face in his hands and Wendy laughed.  
  
“Jesus Christ,” I grumbled and looked to Brooke, “Look, I know this sounds like I’m being a pain in the ass, but I have to match them and you at the same time.”  
  
Brooke nodded.  
  
“No, I get it. Gotta represent your Old Man,” she said, smiling, “Believe me. I’d do the same for Rat.”  
  
I smiled. She was young, and had certainly been thrown into the life of motorcycles and motherhood pretty early, but she was smart and understood exactly how this worked. If she rode, I would not doubt Chibs would let her patch in.  
  
“Okay, how about this? The girls are in black dresses and black heels?” I asked.  
  
Wendy nodded.  
  
“Okay. I’ll wear formal, dressy, all black something. My jacket, and black heels. That work?” I asked.  
  
“Sure,” Wendy replied.  
  
“Ya have heels?” Chibs asked in surprise.  
  
I looked up at him and smirked.  
  
“I have one pair,” I said.  
  
His eyes widened.  
  
“Ya know you’ll have to ride in heels?” he asked.  
  
I grinned.  
  
“I have before,” I said.  
  
Chibs eyes rolled back. We laughed at him.  
  
“You have put ideas into his mind, baby girl. You should know better,” Tig said.  
  
I smiled and turned back to Brooke.  
  
“You sure this is okay with you? This is your day. If not, I’ll bend,” I said.  
  
Brooke smiled.  
  
“No, it’s fine. So long as you’re there,” she said.  
  
I smiled. I would definitely be there to see my brother—and I suppose, my sister, get hitched.  
  
***  
  
There were very few things Chibs feared in life. He had seen almost all of it and heard more than he cared to ever know. His only true fear since joining the Sons of Anarchy had been losing his club, but with the most recent changes in his life, he feared losing Callie, and anything that threatened to cause him those losses made his anxiety shoot through the roof. However, that seldom happened. Nothing made him nervous or anxious unless his bike, or a bike or car project at TM was causing him problems. That anxiety, he found, could always be resolved with a shot of whiskey. The only real issue was when he found he was out of whiskey. Only then did all hell break loose. That occurrence was rare, but one problem he ran into frequently, especially when there was heat on the club, was a crowd. He did not like a lot of movement. People speeding around him. Things needing to be completed at a certain time and without fault. That was why the weeks leading up to Rat and Brooke’s wedding had left him wanting to rip his hair out. He thanked God that when the day came, things calmed down somewhat.  
Chibs hung the hanger with his long-sleeved, black button up and the hanger with his black jeans over the door of the closet with Callie’s clothes. He then laid out his cut, which had been freshly conditioned, leaving the leather clean and shining. His old gray riding boots, he found, did not react well with mink oil, so he took on old brush to them to break off any dry grass, oil, and dirt. The last time he cleaned his boots had been for Opie’s wedding, and the more he thought about it, he felt like it had been so long ago now.  
Chibs checked to make sure he had everything ready. Socks, boxers, gun, holster. Everything he needed. All he had to do now, was finish the last of the household chores and take his shower. After he was satisfied that he would not forget anything, he walked down the hall to the kitchen. As he move past the closed bathroom door, a sound made him stop in his tracks. He halted when the sound of Callie’s voice reached his ears over the noise of the shower. He tilted his head to listen, and smiled when he realized that his Old Lady was singing in the shower. He laughed to himself and stepped up to the door for a closer listen. Callie’s singing ceased for a moment before starting up again, perhaps on a different song. He smiled when he recognized the song as one of Led Zeppelin’s, but he was not sure of the title. Whichever song it was, Callie sang the versus and whistled the guitar parts in between.  
An idea flew into Chibs’ head and he smiled to himself. He pulled his shirt off and gently opened the door, trying his hardest not to make a peep. He knew this could go one of two ways. He just hoped she did not kick his ass.  
  
***  
  
I tilted my head backwards under the shower head to rinse the shampoo out of my hair. I then turned to my left to face the back of the shower and rinse the left side of my head, getting the last of the shampoo out. As I wrung my hair and started to turn to face the back of the shower again, the curtain was swiped to the side and two arms suddenly pinned me. I spun around in shock to face Filip Telford, looking quite proud of himself through the stream of water.  
  
“Jesus Christ, Filip!”  
  
“Hi, darlin’,” he replied casually, as if we were in a more clothed and dry setting.  
  
I craned my head back to look at him as he stepped up to me, his body now in the stream, and I could not help but stare at his chest as droplets of water raced down his torso like rain water on a windshield.  
  
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked with a sigh.  
  
“I heard ya singin’,” he replied with a shrug.  
  
I snorted.  
  
“I hardly think ‘Going to California’ is a mating call,” I said.  
  
Chibs pressed against me and lightly kissed me.  
  
“Can’t resist the song of the siren, love,” he said, then coaxed my chin up to claim my mouth.  
  
I could not suppress the moan that creeped up my throat as he kissed me with such fervent passion, my legs turned to goo. He held my arms and trailed kisses down my neck and across my shoulder, the shower soaking his hair.  
  
“If we do this, we’ll be late for the wedding,” I breathed out.  
  
“We got time,” he said.  
  
I smiled and kissed the crook of his neck. The water amplified the smell of his skin, and when I smelled him—that spicy, clean, dark, woodsy scent...let’s just say, my mind went on automatic, every sense filling with desire. I used all of my strength and pushed his body against the back wall, took his face in my hands, and our lips crashed together. My fingers wandered clumsily across his chest. He latched onto my neck, making me cry out and drop my guard just long enough for him to flip me around and push me up against the wall. I gasped in surprise. Chibs gave special attention to the crow marking my chest, and his hands glided over my hips, the water creating little resistance. He cupped one of my breasts and softly kissed the tip before his eyes met mine. He stared at me for a moment before he let one hand graze over my stomach and the other move across the scar on my hip. He never broke eye contact as he lowered himself down my body. Once reached my pubic bone, and softly kissed the skin in front of him, and I caught on to his plan.  
I ran a hand over his head affectionately, and he flicked out his tongue. I was not ready for the electrical jolt to shoot through me. I gripped his wet hair and did not hesitate to vocalize my pleasure. Chibs ran a hand under my leg and I gladly threw it over his shoulder. He kissed and nipped the inside of my thighs, creating tingling sensations. I caressed his cheeks and moved my hands around his neck. He wrapped a hand around the leg over his shoulder and attached his mouth to the bundle of nerves. I gasped and gripped his hair hard as I threw my head back.  
  
“Sweet Jesus,” I blurted.  
  
Chibs hummed approvingly, the vibrations of his voice only intensifying the situation. He let his tongue roam and sucked me into his mouth. I moaned at the sensation of his hot mouth and scratchy facial hair, and felt heat pool in the pit of my stomach. His tongue rolled over and around every place that screamed for it, and when he sent another jolt through me, I involuntarily bucked my hips against him.  
Chibs hooked a strong hand around my leg and another around my back, lifting me as he pushed himself to his feet. I locked my legs around his waist as he locked his lips on mine. He kept me balanced with one hand, and I felt a finger encircle me slowly, shock after shock of intense pleasure zapping me with every rotation. He took my bottom lip between his teeth and lightly sucked and pulled. I was completely lost, whimpering and softly moaning against him. He then dipped a finger into my depths. We could not do what we ached to do, as he was not bundled up, but at this point, I wanted anything. When he added a second finger, my noises were lost in his neck as I bit down. He let out a strangled moan, and I was afraid I had hurt him until his moan softened and he nuzzled my ear.  
  
“Sweetheart,” he whispered gruffly.  
  
His rough fingers moved deeper within me, and he used the pad of his thumb to continue his ministrations. I would soon be long gone, pace quickened or not, but I wanted to make sure he got something out of this too. So, I took him in my hand. I was a little nervous about doing this, as I had actually never taken him before, but his whimper of desperation was the only confirmation I needed. I held him to me and brought him to climax before I clamped down around his fingers, gripping him tighter than I ever had as I cried out.  
When I came down, I collapsed onto him, holding my arms around his neck and my forehead on his collarbone. Chibs chuckled.  
  
“That good?” he asked.  
  
I let out a humorless laugh and looked up at him.  
  
“Warn me next time. Jesus!”  
  
Chibs laughed and kissed me, this time not with urgency, but tenderness. I melted all over again. Chibs kissed my neck and held me to him.  
  
“I love you, Callie.”  
  
I smiled and kissed his shoulder.  
  
“I love you, too, sweet boy,” I replied.  
  
We decided to save water and finish or showers together, the soapy bubbles making round two sound tempting. We did not realize that as soon as round one was over, we were already five minutes late.


	36. Better Late Than Never

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofread and edited.

Tig had called twice and Rat, a total of three times. I never heard my phone, but Chibs eventually caught his just as I was finishing up. Rat was close to having a panic attack and Tig was pissed. Chibs made some lame excuse about the Glide not starting and that we were on our way. We should have left 20 minutes ago, and it took about 15 more to reach TM from the house. We were supposed to meet there and ride in together to the reservation. I could only imagine what kind of panic attack this was causing Brooke.  
  
“You said we had time,” I growled as I returned to the bathroom to finish up.  
  
Chibs was dressed already, looking very regal and intimidating in his all black ensemble. The only items breaking up the monochromatic color scheme were his SAMCRO belt and gray boots. He had the sleeves of his long-sleeved button-up rolled up as he fought with is hair, and as I walked by, I playfully grabbed a handful of his ass. He yelped and turned his backside away from me.  
  
“What the fuck?” he asked.  
  
I smiled and grabbed my hairbrush.  
  
“Hey! You have a nice ass. Nothing to be ashamed of,” I said.  
  
Chibs rolled his eyes. Of course, Filip Telford had little to no shame.  
  
“Callie, would you-“  
  
He cut himself off and looked back down at me, finally noticing what I was wearing. I pretended to not pay attention as I picked up a rhinestone headband and stretched it behind my fringe. There was not much I could do, or had the ability to do with an asymmetrical pixie cut. I ran texturizer through it, curled up my fringe to the best of my ability, as I currently did not own a curling iron, and slapped on a headband. It worked with my chosen outfit—a black tank with studs along the neckline and lace up the sides, my SAMCRO ring, black booties with chains and straps along the ankle, and a pair of fake leather pants Venus had dared me to get. They were not skin tight or shiny by any means, but they did exactly what Vee had said they would do: make Chibs’ jaw hit the floor.  
  
“Holy shit, Callie!”  
  
I looked at his reflection to indeed see his mouth wide open.  
  
“What?” I asked.  
  
He slowly took my arm and turned my body to the side for a frontal view. I had never seen the man gawk until now.  
  
“Too much?” I asked.  
  
Chibs lifted his eyes from my outfit and smiled softly.  
  
“No. It’s perfect,” he replied.  
  
I smiled and reached up to adjust his collar, which did not really need to be straightened. He watched my every move and smiled.  
  
“How do I look?” he asked.  
  
I smiled and patted his chest.  
  
“Like a king,” I replied, then pecked his lips before taking his hand and shutting the light off, “Come on. Let’s go watch our brother get married.”  
  
Chibs smiled and followed me out the door.  
  
***  
  
Tig was pacing a rut in the concrete by the time we arrived at TM. Rat looked like he was about to have a fit. Chibs and I looped around and pulled up beside Tig.  
  
“Where the hell have you two been?” Tig barked at us.  
  
“Bike problems. It’s all good now, brother,” Chibs said loudly over the Glide’s idling engine.  
  
“Good. Let’s get the hell out of here!” Tig replied.  
  
Chibs laughed and agreed.  
  
Our pack was organized a little differently from how we normally traveled. Back when I started, I would travel ahead, then Chibs leading Tig and Happy, then Rane and Rat, then Montez, and T.O., with Juice trailing behind. With the change in positions, I rode alongside Rat. Today, we traveled parallel. I led beside Chibs, Rat behind me and beside his best man, Hap and Quinn, and then Montez and T.O. I was not sure whose idea it was to travel like this, but as we pulled out of TM, I got a rush of adrenaline. Not only did we look cool, but I could feel the power. That is what made riding addicting, and that is why I loved traveling with these guys. Knowing who you were with, what you were doing, and just simply being a part of a club that every member loved, and everyone else feared. It was the epitome of badass. Besides that, the only thing better than riding with Chibs, was riding alongside him, and that was my favorite part.  
A worn area in the trees at the Wahewa Reservation was filled with chairs, flowers, lights, white drapery, and two lines of motorcycles facing each other, creating the aisle that we would walk down. There were bikes from fellow SOA charters, Mayan bikes, Grim Bastard bikes, and bikes belonging to friends and family. We were the last to make up the line. Chibs, Tig, Hap, and Montez on the left, then myself, Rat, Quinn and T.O. on the right. Wendy rushed us as soon as the bikes’ engines were shut off.  
  
“Thank God! What took you guys so long? Brooke’s been worrying herself to tears,” she said.  
  
“We had a little bike trouble. We’re good now,” Chibs lied.  
  
Rat dismounted his bike.  
  
“What happened? Is she okay?” he asked worriedly.  
  
“Yeah, it’s just her wedding isn’t going to plan and she’s starting to show,” she replied sarcastically.  
  
“We’re here now. I’m sure she’ll understand. We’ll get everyone seated and the ball rolling,” Tig assured her.  
  
Wendy nodded and pushed her long, curly hair behind her ear.  
  
“Okay. Um, Callie, can you come help me? Brooke cried her eyeliner off,” she replied.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Sure. I’ll be right there,” I replied.  
  
Wendy smiled and walked off. I watched until she was out of hearing range before turning and swatting Chibs’ chest. Chibs grunted and grabbed his sternum. That had to hurt, because my knuckles were screaming.  
  
“Mother of Christ!” he hissed.  
  
I pointed a finger at him.  
  
“This is on you! We’re getting a goddamn clock for the bathroom!” I hissed.  
  
“Okay, but did you have to hit me so hard?” he asked.  
  
I frowned and rubbed the spot.  
  
“No, I got carried away, baby. I’m sorry,” I replied.  
  
Chibs pouted and I reached up and pecked his lips.  
  
“I forgive ya. Go save the day,” he said.  
  
I smiled. Tig stepped up to us and pretended he was going to choke Chibs.  
  
“Bike problems my ass!” he growled.  
  
I laughed and turned away.  
  
“Take care of him, Tiggy!” I called over my shoulder.  
  
“Oh, you’re both so grounded!” he shouted.  
  
I just laughed and disappeared before Papa Tig could ground my ass.  
  
***  
  
“Hairspray?” Venus asked me as we made sure our hair and makeup were perfect.  
  
I took the offered can and gave my hair a light spray. Nero walked into the tent with Thomas on his hip and Abel on his arm. Wendy approached them and told Abel to make sure his Uncle Tig received the rings. I handed the can of spray back to Venus and straightened my shirt. The tank I had picked was not cut low enough to see my crow, but I could still see the words, and that was good enough for me.  
Nero took the boys back out of the tent and Wendy gritted her teeth.  
  
“Well, Brooke _was_ ready,” she said.  
  
Venus and I turned to her, concerned.  
  
“Could be a nervous stomach, and it could be that she’s just knocked up,” she explained.  
  
I cringed. Poor girl.  
  
“Oh, that sweet girl,” Venus said, “I hope she doesn’t ruin her dress.”  
  
Wendy waved her off.  
  
“Lyla’s making sure she aims in the right direction,” she replied.  
  
Venus sighed.  
  
“She does know it’ll be over as soon as it starts? Say the I Do’s, kiss and party,” I said.  
  
“I know, Callie, but it is a lot of pressure,” she said, “Anyone got a breath strip?”  
  
Venus went for her purse.  
  
“I got you, sweetheart,” she said.  
  
Wendy smiled and turned to me.  
  
“Did you really ride in heels?” she asked.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Hell yeah!”  
  
Wendy laughed. Lyla returned with an exhausted, but relieved Brooke.  
  
“I think I’m empty now,” she said.  
  
Venus walked over to her and handed her a bottle of water and a pack of breath strips.  
  
“Keep them,” she said.  
  
Brooke smiled gratefully. Lyla adjusted Brooke’s up-do and sprayed it once more. Brooke washed her mouth out with water and popped a breath strip. Venus helped her reapply her lipstick, and she was soon ready.  
  
“Callie, baby, can you go tell Mr. Putner that Brooke is ready?” Venus asked, “He’s the bigger man in the tux standing outside the tent.”  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Want me to bring him in here?” I asked.  
  
“Yes, please, Callie,” Wendy said, then thanked me.  
  
I nodded and walked out of the tent to find the man in question, who looked just as nervous as his daughter.  
  
“Mr. Putner?” I asked.  
  
He looked up suddenly. I just smiled at him.  
  
“Brooke’s ready,” I said.  
  
He smiled and nodded. I led him back into the tent as Wendy was putting Brooke’s veil on. He saw her and immediately broke down. Brooke smiled and walked up to hug him. I just looked down and kept quiet. I knew my parents would have done the same thing if they had seen me in a wedding dress, whether it was Z or Chibs.  
The wedding began shortly after we settled. Rane led the groomsmen to the altar, following by Happy and Chibs. Rane stood at the far end of the line, then Happy next to him, and Chibs a spot over from where the best man was to stand. Then, Tig walked with Rat before it was time for the bridesmaids. Lyla led the way, and I followed behind Venus. Wendy was going to walk with Brooke and hold the end of her long dress. The job had originally been assigned to Abel, but at rehearsals, he put up a fight. Wendy was more than happy to take the job. Make things easier.  
We walked up to the altar and I stood in the spot that mirrored Chibs’. As we waited for the bride to make her descent down the aisle. I caught Chibs tilting his head and looking at me. I turned my head to see him smile and wink. I smiled back and looked up when Brooke and Mr. Putner appeared. Wendy just behind them. Everyone stood, and they made the slow walk to the altar. Wendy carefully laid the tail of the dress down and kissed Brooke’s cheek before coming to stand beside me.  
  
“She looks beautiful,” she whispered to me.  
  
I smiled and nodded. Brooke took Rat’s hands and Rat could not stop smiling. I was happy for him, and even though everything was happening fast for him and Brooke, I hoped and prayed their relationship would last. Break the odds.  
The two had written their own vows, and Brooke’s vows had her so choked up it was hard to understand her. Wendy whispered reassurances, but they only helped a little. Rat’s vows were clearer, but just as heartfelt.  
  
“And,” Tig said strictly.  
  
Rat pouted.  
  
“Not that,” he whispered.  
  
“Ya have to,” Chibs said.  
  
Rat rolled his eyes.  
  
“And I promise…to treat you as good as my leather…and ride you as much as my Harley,” he said, then end of the vow recited by every biker in attendance.  
  
Wendy burst out laughing.  
  
“I forgot they did that,” she admitted to me.  
  
I laughed.  
  
“You may kiss the bride,” the preacher said.  
  
Rat happily took Brooke’s jaw and laid one on her. The audience cheered and clapped, the boys shouted and making whooping noises.  
  
“Let’s party!” Tig all but screamed.  
  
The club surrounded Rat and Brooke and we hugged them, Chibs kissing the side of Rat’s head.  
  
***  
  
The club sat around a table, smoking cigars and taking the piss out of each other after we had eaten dinner. Most of the party was on the dance floor, and the rest were relaxing at the tables, laughing drunkenly and toasting Rat and Brooke over Michelob’s. With the exclusion of Rat, the remaining seven of us commandeered a table, the boys in the chairs, and I had perched myself on the white table cloth between Chibs and T.O. Chibs elbow was propped on my thigh, and we spent an hour laughing at each other and listening to the blues band on the stage.  
  
“You two better be next!” Tig hissed to Chibs and I.  
  
I just laughed.  
  
“Um, no! You and Venus are next,” I retorted.  
  
Tig snorted. Rane leaned over the table and gestured to me, a longneck between his fingers.  
  
“You think marriage is in the cards for you guys?” he asked me.  
  
I smiled and looked down at Chibs. He smiled softly as I combed a lock of brown and silver behind his ear.  
  
“If he behaves,” I said teasingly.  
  
Chibs playfully scoffed.  
  
“If _I_ behave?” he asked, pretending to be offended.  
  
I grinned and tilted his head up to kiss him. It was way too early to discuss marriage at this point, but I would not hesitate to say yes when the time came.  
  
“ _And_ it just got gross. I’m leaving,” Tig said, standing up.  
  
Chibs let out a small sound of protest.  
  
“Where the hell are ya goin’?” he asked.  
  
Tig popped his collar and widened his already large blue eyes.  
  
“I’m gonna dance with my Old Lady,” he replied, then walked off with his head held high.  
  
“Who’s pussy-whipped now?” Happy called after him.  
  
Tig just flipped him off and shook his mane of curls. I laughed. You had to respect the man. He could be spending his time getting drunk with us, maintaining his masculinity, but he not only willingly went to dance with Venus, he did it proudly. Proud that she was his. Comfortable in his sexuality. Proud as hell of their beautiful relationship. Whipped? A little. Venus had all control of him, but pussy? Only my brothers were the pussies in this argument.  
Chibs stood from the table.  
  
“Come on, love,” he said.  
  
I looked up at him in surprise.  
  
“Where are we going?” I asked.  
  
The look on the man’s face was absolutely smoldering, and my entire body was set aflame. His chestnut eyes, dilated in the dim light anyway, appeared black and narrowed as his smile turned sideways. I’m sure my brothers could tell I was done for.  
  
“ _Okay, I’ll go. Anywhere you want. Just lead me there_ ,” I thought.  
  
“Dance floor,” he replied.  
  
My jaw hit the ground far faster and harder than his had when he saw my outfit of the night. As suddenly as it dropped, it snapped back up and I smirked.  
  
“Well, well, Chibs. Feeling like being romantic tonight?” I asked.  
  
My brothers snickered, but knew not to say anything.  
  
“Ya make me want to romance ya,” he said lowly.  
  
Yup. I’m yours.  
  
Happy made a whipping sound. I spun around to him and glared. The Sergeant at Arms bit his lip and sat still.  
  
“Let’s go, baby,” I said to Chibs.  
  
Chibs smiled and took my hand. I slid down from the table and Chibs swatted the back of Hap’s head.  
  
“Be respectful,” he said.  
  
Happy nodded.  
  
“Yes, boss.”  
  
I smiled and linked my arm with my Old Man’s, walking with him through the grass to the dance floor. On the floor, Rat was holding his new bride around the waist, as a slow, Blues guitar solo floated from the speakers. Tig and Venus were moving around the floor, holding each others hands as she held his shoulder and he, her waist. The amount of love in his eyes made me smile. Nothing mattered to them in that moment except each other.  
  
“You gonna bust some moves, Chibs?” I asked.  
  
Chibs smiled.  
  
“Saoirse always liked to dance. Even when her health was rapidly declinin’, she’d use the strength for the day to dance to nothin’ but the sound of sirens outside and rats in the walls. I was always up for dancin’ with my mother,” he said.  
  
My face fell. Way to kill my mood.  
  
“Now I get to dance with you,” he said softly.  
  
I looked back up at him and smiled. He stood before me and held his hands out. I took them and stepped up to him. He was all smiles.  
  
“Mind you, I’m no good at it,” he added.  
  
I laughed as he wrapped an arm around my waist. I held his left hand with my right and he kissed my knuckles as I wrapped my free arm around his back. We rested our clasped hands on his chest and he pecked my lips.  
  
“I don’t mind,” I said.  
  
He smiled warmly and lightly butted my forehead. We rocked from side to side, letting the music set our gait and getting lost in each other. I laid my head on his collarbone and closed my eyes, absorbing his warmth, the feeling of being locked securely in his arms, and his cigar-scented breath as he nuzzled my forehead and lightly kissed my nose. It made me forget about my problems. The VII could not get me here. Nightmares could not find me here. I was safe. This was my best friend, the man I loved over all. Hell, I had not had a nightmare since my bedroom upgrade. Nothing but normal, nonsensical dreams, or good ones, if I had any at all. I did not need to dream, anyway. Reality, for once, was way better.  
We shifted after a while, moving to the position every tired dancer had resorted to. Arms around necks and waists. I draped my arms around Chibs’ neck and he locked his lips with mine in a slow, lingering kiss.  
  
“You look beautiful, Callie girl,” he said softly.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“You’re not so bad yourself, Prez,” I said playfully.  
  
Chibs smiled tiredly and kissed me again before hugging me. I smiled and buried the side of my face in his shirt. Chibs nuzzled his face against my forehead.  
  
“I love you, my sweet girl,” he whispered.  
  
I let a hand slide back around to his chest and closed my eyes.  
  
“I love you, too, Filip.”  
  
***  
  
It was as if lightning flashed behind his eyes, and the thunder that followed left him groaning in pain. He felt stiff, and his nose felt packed with dense cotton. He rolled onto his back of pressed the heels of his hands against his eye sockets, as if physical pressure would release the pounding in his sinuses. It helped, but only for a moment.  
Chibs tried to sniff and clear his nasal passages as he stared up at the ceiling. The dreaded day had come at last. It was allergy season, and though his flare-ups would last a week and be over with as soon as they came on, he would be grumpy for the next month. He knew if he was going to be someone decent to be around, he had to get his hands on some strong allergy pills. That was easy for him, but he hated the havoc it wreaked on his system. The pollen in Ireland had nothing on whatever was floating around in Charming.  
  
“Jesus,” Chibs mumbled.  
  
He sniffed miserably and turned his head to check on Callie. He smiled at her. She was laying on her back, one arm over her head and the other tangled in the sheets. Her head was tilted slightly towards him, her face inexpressive. He rolled onto his side to face her and absently took a piece of black hair between his fingers. Her head was the prime example of bedhead, and her fringe was still wavy from the wedding the night before. In the light coming through the window, he could see roots of chocolate brown coming through. He knew the black was not natural. No one with such ghostly pale skin could have naturally black hair such as hers, but he liked it. He wondered what her hair looked like naturally, but he was fond of the black. He had always been attracted to dark-headed women—especially when their eyes were a drastically different color. Callie’s were blue, and depending on her mood, could be quite striking. She did not remotely look at all like Tig, but Chibs thought that with the eyes and hair, she could pass as one of his own. In any case, no one would question it.  
Chibs settled his pounding head on the pillows and watched her for a moment. His eyes trailed over her pale skin, the occasional freckle along her neck, and the almost faded scar on her temple. She was littered with scars. Chibs noticed this one night. They were bored, and found themselves making slow, passionate love before they called it a night. Her forehead and hip bore the scars from her wreck, and her hands had tiny scars across the knuckles and down to the wrist. Of course, the undersides of her arms matched his. Rips and tears of heartache. Cries for help. For relief. He wished he had met her a long time ago. He could not have been saved from his bad habits, but she could have. He was forever grateful they met when they did, or he would have never gotten to know his wonderful Old Lady, and she would have taken her life in Seattle. That ate at him every day, knowing she had fallen so low. He would never let her fall like that again.  
Chibs kissed her forehead. He could see the very corner of the Gaelic inked into her skin and smiled. He was always drawn to the tattoo when it was visible, and now that the weather was warmer, Callie proudly showed it off. Regardless of what it meant, it was still a cool piece, and against Callie’s hair, eyes, her clothing choices and her bike, she was just as sexy as she was intimidating. At least, to him. He did not care what anyone else’s opinion was. Callie did not always agree with him. She would roll her eyes and change the subject, but he did not always agree with her opinions of him, and she showed him endless affection. When most looked at him, he could catch them immediately tracing the carvings in his cheeks with their eyes. Callie’s eyes always went straight to his eyes. She only ever paid the scars attention when they were in the bedroom or in a heated moment. She kissed them like a mother kissing a child’s injury, as if kissing the boo-boo would make it better. It made his eyes water every time. They were not gestures of pity, or gestures of love regardless of his facial flaws, they were just simple kisses of love. He could not feel it when she kissed the one on his right. The nerve damage had been too extensive, but he could feel the warmth of her face. Her nose pressing into his cheek bone. The faintest whisper of a kiss on the dead scar. Attention to either side made him melt.  
He paid her arms the same amount of love and attention. He would kiss them in the privacy of their bedroom, in the comfort of her arms. A gesture of the love she was deprived of when her ex-brothers took her fiancé away. A way of telling her he would be there when she felt the need arise. A way of saying “no more.” Althea had attempted to bond with him over scars. Immediately laying an unwelcome hand on his cheek, making him feel like an oddity. She did not know why they were there and would never understand or be able to remedy the heartache and pain he had experienced. There was no connection, regardless of her gunshot wound. He had a few of those, too. So what? It was not the same as the secret none of his brothers knew about. His scars were so faded that even in a wifebeater, no one noticed the abuse he had inflicted upon himself. He and Callie were already friends at the point when Juice found her scars. As club President, and as a friend, he felt it was his responsibility to make sure she was okay. These scars they could bond over, because he knew exactly why she did it. They made her feel self-conscious, and he did whatever he could to bring her self-esteem back up and let her know just how beautiful he believed she was, as she had done for him.  
Chibs shifted, reaching an arm around her head to hold the hand that was raised. Her fingers moved slightly at his touch. He closed his fingers around hers, his hand encompassing them. He often overlooked how small she was in comparison to him. Even Kerrianne had a few inches over her. Her presence—her energy, was much bigger. It was only when she was asleep, or any time he got to hold her that he remembered. As big as her presence was and as hard as she fought—as truly dangerous as she could be, Chibs could see her fragility, and it made him all the more protective of her. She always jumped in front of him, defending him and the club, but he would never think twice about jumping in front of her.  
He dipped his head down to her pillow and pressed his forehead to her scarred temple. He reached his free hand around her and closed his eyes, lightly kissing the apex of her cheek.  
  
“Morning, baby,” she murmured.  
  
He smiled and opened his eyes to be greeted by groggy blue.  
  
“Mornin’, darlin’,” he spoke, immediately feeling his throat scream in protest.  
  
Callie smiled at him as he let go of her hand to run his fingers through her hair.  
  
“I think this is the longest it’s been in a while,” she said, looking up through her eyebrows to watch him let choppy pieces slide through his fingers, “Probably should get it trimmed soon.”  
  
Chibs frowned. He honestly did not care what his Old Lady did with her hair. He knew well enough that women would do whatever they pleased, despite whatever he thought, but he liked it.  
  
“I don’t know,” he said softly, “Why not just let it go? See what happens?”  
  
Callie shrugged and sat up.  
  
“Summer’s coming. Besides, I keep it short for a couple of reasons,” she replied.  
  
Chibs propped his head on his elbow and watched her bare backside, the vibrant red of the roses on her back keeping his attention.  
  
“Why?” he asked curiously.  
  
Callie looked down at him over her shoulder.  
  
“So I can fit my head in a helmet, for one thing,” she said.  
  
Chibs smiled. She had a point.  
  
“And so, when I get into a cat fight, they have nothing to grab,” she finished.  
  
Chibs laughed. He had a feeling that really was one reason.  
  
He sat up, his head throbbing as he righted himself. He ignored the pain, took her chin between his fingers, and kissed her softly, forgetting the pain, if just for a moment. When they parted, she took him by surprise when her hands when straight to his cheeks and forehead, concern written on her face.  
  
“You’re really warm, Filip.”  
  
He frowned.  
  
“Are you feeling okay?” she asked worriedly.  
  
He shrugged.  
  
“Just my allergies actin’ up,” he replied.  
  
She did not seem satisfied by that.  
  
“Yeah, probably from being at that wedding. A lot of pollen and shit flying around,” she agreed.  
  
He just nodded and watched her get up. He could not help watching her walk to the dresser, wearing nothing but a pair of black panties. As soon as they returned from Ratboy and Brooke’s wedding, they finished what they had started in the shower before falling asleep, sated and exhausted. She had gotten up once to use the bathroom, then threw something on before returning to bed. He was too out of it to notice what it had been until now. If his head was not making him nauseous, he would have pulled her back to bed.  
Callie grabbed a sports bra from her underwear drawer, put it on, then pulled on a muscle tank before turning back to him.  
  
“Let’s go. Get your ass in the shower,” she ordered.  
  
Chibs rolled his eyes and fell back into the sheets, too tired and feeling too sick to move.  
  
“The hot water will make you feel better. Come on,” she said.  
  
Chibs covered his face with the comforter stubbornly.  
  
“Chibs!”  
  
“I don’t wanna,” he whined.  
  
Suddenly, she grabbed his ankles and he found himself sliding off the bed. He slid to a heap in the floor, sheets falling over his head. Callie swiped his head clear and yanked him to his feet. He smiled through the dizzy haze.  
  
“Shower,” she said sternly.  
  
“Yes, sweetheart,” he said, giving up.  
  
She smiled and kissed his overheated cheek before steering him towards the door.  
  
“I’ll get your clothes,” she said.  
  
He stood still as he watched her return to the dresser and choose an outfit for him. He smirked.  
  
“Ya can join me, ya know?” he said.  
  
She ripped a pair of faded jeans from the drawer and handed them over with a gray t-shirt and boxers. She smiled up at him and patted his chest.  
  
“Take your shower. I’ll make breakfast,” she said.  
  
He smiled gratefully and kissed her forehead before finally obeying. His Old Lady was small, but he had forgotten how strong she was. He knew better than to disobey, and besides, he felt like shit. He would let her baby him today.


	37. The Quiet Spot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofread and edited.

Chibs had just returned from his shower, his hair damp, and his eyes sunken into his head. I was finishing his breakfast as he entered, fiddling with a small packet in his hand. I scraped a slice of ham out of the skillet and set it on a plate before checking on the egg I was frying.  
  
“Hey,” I said.  
  
He smiled softly and kissed the top of my head.  
  
“Hey, darlin’,” he said quietly, then grabbed a glass from the cabinet and took it to the sink to fill it.  
  
“You feel better?” I asked.  
  
Chibs sniffed and opened the packet, plopping a tablet of Alka-Seltzer into the water.  
  
“Aye. My sinuses are still throbbin’, though,” he replied.  
  
I flipped the egg to confirm it was finished cooking, then slid it onto the plate and began constructing my masterpiece of the day. I was not entirely talented with cooking, especially the way Chibs liked. He was all about homemade when he was in the mood. I did not have as many cooking skills, so I decided to do what I could and see what I could make out of it. The breakfast sandwich I created did not look half bad.  
  
“Well, you’ll feel better after you eat,” I said.  
  
I opened the refrigerator and grabbed a slice of cheese, topped off the sandwich, then put the top slice of bread on and held up the plate.  
  
“Hungry?” I asked.  
  
Chibs finished off his Alka-Seltzer before his eyes widened.  
  
“Jesus! What do ya got there?”  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Ham, bacon, egg and cheese,” I replied.  
  
His glassy eyes lit up. All fried and fatty and terrible for you (though I was never one to pay attention to that). The perfect treat when you felt like shit.  
  
“Hell, Callie girl. I should get sick more often,” he said.  
  
“Please, don’t,” I replied.  
  
Chibs smiled, took the plate and kissed my cheek.  
  
“Thank-you, love,” he said, then walked to the table.  
  
“Welcome. Sunny D is on the table,” I said.  
  
Chibs spotted the glass of bright orange liquid and shot me a look.  
  
“Orange juice?” he asked.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Thought you could use the Vitamin C,” I replied.  
  
He grinned and shook his head.  
  
“This shit’s only good with alcohol,” he said.  
  
I laughed and went to pour myself some coffee.  
  
“Like that will help,” I said sarcastically.  
  
Chibs sat down at the table.  
  
“Hey. It’ll kill whatever’s in my system,” he said.  
  
I walked up to the table and sat across from him.  
  
“Yeah, if you have a stomach bug,” I replied.  
  
Chibs smiled and bit into his sandwich. I waited for his reaction.  
  
“You don’t have to lie. I was never the best cook,” I said.  
  
Chibs swallowed and shook his head before reaching his drink. He took a sip and swallowed.  
  
“Nah. It’s really good. What I can taste, anyway. My nose is so goddamn stuffed up. It’s just hot,” he replied.  
  
I smiled and sipped my coffee. He looked up and noticed that I had not made anything for myself.  
  
“Aren’t ya hungry, sweetheart?” he asked.  
  
I smiled and shook my head.  
  
“Nah,” I replied, standing and downing the last of the only thing that was going to wake me up, “I’m fine. I’m going to go have a shower and get ready.”  
  
Chibs took another bite and looked up at me with puppy eyes.  
  
“Can I have another? This is marvelous!” he said, a cheek full of food.  
  
I smiled and leaned down to kiss his cheek.  
  
“You can make another if you want to, but we need to get around. We have church,” I said.  
  
Chibs stared deadpan across the table and his shoulders dropped. He had forgotten all about it. He set his sandwich down and rubbed his face with a groan.  
  
“Fuck!” he growled.  
  
I smiled and gave his shoulder a squeeze before going to wash my mug out.  
  
“Today is not my day,” he grumbled.  
  
I set the clean mug in the drainer and dried my hands.  
  
“You want me to go get you some Benadryl or something?” I asked.  
  
Chibs finished his sandwich before standing.  
  
“Nah. I’ll need something stronger. Keep me stoned for a week,” he said.  
  
I laughed and patted his arm before leaving to take a shower. I felt sorry for him. I did not often have allergy problems, but I was all too familiar with sinus infections, and I felt his pain. Id do anything to at least make him more comfortable. I hated seeing him miserable.  
  
***  
  
“Payday, kiddies!” Tig announced excitedly, slamming bundles of cash in front of us—our percentages from Diosa and Red Woody.  
  
“Aah,” Happy sighed, “It pays to have pussy.”  
  
Tig agreed and set my share in front of me before moving to T.O.  
  
“Get your TM checks from Chucky at closing time,” Chibs said, his voice nasally from his congestion.  
  
“Your allergies acting up too, brother?” Montez asked him.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“Aye,” he replied.  
  
I looked across the table at the empty chair, which had become Rat’s since Juice’s passing.  
  
“Ratty boy on his honeymoon?” I asked.  
  
“If you can call it that. They went to San Fran,” Tig replied.  
  
“What the hell is in San Fran?” Rane asked.  
  
Chibs shrugged.  
  
“They’re young kids. Probably a ton of shit,” he said.  
  
“Yeah. Hotel rooms,” T.O. added, making us laugh.  
  
“‘Kay, I’m putting Rat’s share in the safe,” Tig announced.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“‘Kay. Anythin’ we need to discuss? I don’t think we’ve ever had a uneventful meetin’ in this room,” he said.  
  
The guys chuckled at that.  
  
“Any movement on The VII?” Happy asked.  
  
Chibs shook his head.  
  
“It’s all up to the cops right now,” he replied.  
  
“What _are_ we going to do about them? We know L shot RJ. Tino’s dead,” I listed.  
  
“And apparently the little bitch fled back to Huntington,” Tig said, sitting back down.  
  
“And Jojo will soon be out of prison,” Chibs said distantly.  
  
Silence fell upon the table.  
  
“We can’t just go down there and do what we did to the XMC. We’ll be running right into the red zone,” I said.  
  
Chibs looked up at me and sighed.  
  
“We can’t just dangle ya out there like bait, either, love. If we don’t take precautions now, we’re sittin’ ducks,” he said.  
  
I nodded in agreement.  
  
“They know where Callie is. They know she’s with us. They most likely know now that Tino’s dead, and probably know he was at Diosa—a business that _we_ co-own. According to RJ, they knew that already,” Tig said, “I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do next.”  
  
Chibs picked at his fingernails.  
  
“Ya wanna know what I’m thinkin’?” he asked.  
  
No one said a word, but everyone’s eyes were on the Prez.  
  
“We buy out the Freak Riders for intel,” he said.  
  
I narrowed my eyes. Buy them out?  
  
“What do you mean?” I asked.  
  
His eyes flashed up to mine.  
  
“We pay them for intel. Covers us, and pays for their trouble. We’re not gonna to get the entire club to trust us without the cash. Besides, if they rat or lie, their cashflow is cut—“  
  
“And their throats,” Tig finished.  
  
“Tig!” I scolded, “I have faith in them. Especially Milo.”  
  
“Maybe we should just talk to Milo, then,” Chibs said, “If he doesn’t believe the Riders will be on board, then he can work solo.”  
  
Happy sighed.  
  
“That’s super sketchy, brother,” he said.  
  
Chibs shrugged.  
  
“What choice do we have? This is about Callie. This is about Juicey and RJ. There’s no business here. Only revenge, and the only way we could fuck this up is with lies, and so far, everyone’s stories have synced up.”  
  
“So, the only chances for lying would be from this Milo guy. That’s why we have to buy them out. Get them completely on our side,” Tig said.  
  
“Aye,” Chibs agreed.  
  
A knock on the chapel doors interrupted us. We looked up to see Chucky pop his head in.  
  
“Sorry, but Jarry just pulled up,” he said.  
  
I cringed. She better have some info on L…  
  
“Tell her we’ll be with her shortly,” Chibs said, “She’s alone, right?”  
  
Chucky nodded.  
  
“‘Kay. Just tell her to wait.”  
  
Chucky nodded once and left, shutting the door behind him.  
  
“Do we need more thought on the buy out?” Chibs asked us, “Or should we vote it?  
  
“Let’s sit on it. See what Sheriff Hard Ass has to say,” I replied.  
  
The guys nodded. Chibs nodded and picked up the gavel.  
  
“Right, then. Let’s go,” he said.  
  
The gavel went down, and we stood up and filtered out into the clubhouse. Some of us went straight to the bar, and a few of us headed out to the garage. Chibs and I walked out to the garage office, as he had some paperwork to fill out and get everyone’s checks. Since Jax had briefly taken over, most office work was taken care of by Chucky, but Chibs had gladly taken over some of the work. He did not care for it, but Chucky could not do it all alone. Chibs wondered if he could hire Brooke, but since she had taken her barista job, he probably could not get her back to TM until Felix was born.  
Outside, I walked close to Chibs, automatically protective when I saw Althea leaning against the cruiser. It was not about the overly friendly trust building scheme she had between him anymore. I was long over that. It was about my duty to protect him, as a club member and Old Lady, and since I knew he was not up to snuff today, it made me extra defensive. If she copped an attitude, she would have to put up with me. If she did not like it, she could take it up with Tig, as he seemed to be in prime form today. I was not going to let her irritating, give no fucks attitude resurrect Chibs’ headache.  
  
“Easy, my love. Don’t prepare to pounce just yet,” Chibs murmured as we walked passed her.  
  
I relaxed, but did not let my guard down.  
  
“I have some news for you,” Althea called to us.  
  
I waved her over, leading her into the office. Chibs went straight for the coffee machine, and I sat down on the couch. Althea stepped inside and shut the door.  
  
“Ya got some info for us, Sheriff?” Chibs asked, and walked to the desk chair, sitting down heavily.  
  
He acted like he was in pain, moving stiffly and grunting as he sat down.  
  
“I do,” she said, her voice just as stiff.  
  
“What?” Chibs asked, tiredly rubbing the side of his face.  
  
He was not up for this.  
  
“Well, we discovered that Mr. Venza was part of The VII Deadliest, which is a Huntington Beach outlaw motorcycle club. Known members are Shane Maddox, Zero Owens, Lancaster Hanes, Valentino Venza and Joseph Christmas. Owens and now, Venza are deceased, which currently leaves Maddox, Hanes and Christmas. However, Christmas was incarcerated at the time of the attack, which leaves Hanes and Maddox left as the suspect who could have killed Richards.”  
  
“Okay,” Chibs said, pulling the computer’s keyboard into his lap so he could log in and get the the paychecks set up, “Then get to Huntington and investigate.”  
  
“I have some investigators down there now, but none of this explains why they put a hit on Ortiz and Richards. Huntington Beach is six hours from here,” she said.  
  
“I don’t know!” Chibs groaned, annoyed.  
  
She narrowed her eyes and stepped closer, pissed.  
  
“Careful,” I warned her.  
  
She looked down at me and smirked.  
  
“Right,” she said, “Listen, I need a little bit more help than this. You act like you don’t want to find the killers, which leads me to believe you guys had something to do with Venza’s death.”  
  
“The motherfucker’s heart stopped and he crashed!” Chibs exclaimed, “Could have been for a number of reasons! Probably over-dosed.”  
  
Althea huffed.  
  
“Well, that could be, but I know how you guys are. And I know how you guys carefully select which information to share.”  
  
Chibs glared at her, and I crossed my arms over my chest.  
  
“I don’t think you need to be pointing fingers at us, Althea,” I said lowly, “We’re the victims here.”  
  
She laughed humorlessly.  
  
“And these guys have been known to take matters into their own hands,” she snapped.  
  
“I’m fixing to take a matter into my hands if you don’t stick to the subject,” I threatened.  
  
I watched her nostrils flare angrily.  
  
“I’m just letting you both know right now. Don’t you dare start a war. Not in Huntington Beach, and don’t bring it to Charming. I’m not on your payroll anymore and I-“  
  
“Could disappear if you say one more word, Althea,” Chibs growled.  
  
Her jaw snapped closed. I smiled.  
  
“There will be no wars, so long as ya do your job. Ya hear me?” he said lowly.  
  
She took a deep breath and nodded.  
  
“Yes. But, let me make this clear. If I suspect, or witness activity that points to a fight, I will have your club in handcuffs. Charming cannot take another war,” she said.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“Just have the bastard who killed our brother in handcuffs, and there won’t be a problem,” he said.  
  
Althea nodded, and with that, walked out the door. Once out of sight and hearing range, Chibs set the keyboard down and let his head fall back.  
  
“Fuck!” he barked out.  
  
I stood up, moved behind him, then took his shoulders and kissed his forehead.  
  
“She’ll most likely have eyes on us now,” I said.  
  
Chibs sighed, tired brown eyes watching me.  
  
“Doesn’t matter what I do,” he said quietly.  
  
I took his cheeks and kissed him upside-down.  
  
“We’ll slip out from under her nose, my sweet boy. Just takes time and a plan."  
  
He blinked slowly and nodded.  
  
“We gotta reach out to Milo,” he said.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Call church in tomorrow and we’ll vote it. Right now, I’ll go get Chucky in here to help you finish and then we’re going straight home. You need to get some rest,” I said.  
  
He nodded in agreement.  
  
“And a burrito from Molten Cantina,” he said.  
  
I laughed.  
  
“I’ll call it in before we leave,” I said.  
  
He smiled sweetly and turned around to face me, then stood and hugged me.  
  
“I love you,” he said.  
  
I laughed.  
  
“Because you’re getting your favorite thing for lunch?” I asked teasingly.  
  
Suddenly, his arms tightened around me and he buried his face in my hair.  
  
“No. Just because I do,” he replied.  
  
I sighed and held him tighter.  
  
“I love you, too, baby,” I said.  
  
He raised his head and looked down at me, studying my face for a moment before that precious smile of his appeared. Heat spread through my chest, as this time, the smile had not been provoked by a comment. He stroked my cheek, then softly kissed me.  
  
“I’ll get Chucky,” he said, then left me in the office to stare at him, wondering where the hell his change in mood came from.  
  
Tig entered the room through the garage to see me staring after Chibs. He looked to the door, then back to me.  
  
“What’s wrong, baby girl?” he asked, “Jarry?”  
  
I snapped my head over to him and shook my head.  
  
“No. He’s just doped up on allergy meds,” I said, knowing that was a lame excuse, but unable to think of a way to explain it.  
  
Tig smiled.  
  
“Why don’t you come out here and check these swatches for your bike?” he asked.  
  
I nodded and followed him out the door.  
  
***  
  
It took Chibs a few days to bounce back from his allergy flare-up. He acted like it was killing him. It could have been something deadly, the way he carried on. Typical man, I guess. I knew that the next time I got sick, he was in for it.  
We needed those few days of recuperation, though. By the time he could go through the day without taking something for congestion or an allergy pill that made him worthless to the world, we were able to reach out to the Freak Riders of Long Beach. They had news regarding The VII, anyway, and Milo and the remaining members of the MC had agreed to meet us half way. The only problem with that, was the mysterious black Suburban parked on the street outside of the compound. Sometimes it was parked closer to the gate, and other times, a little further away. Tig had noticed it on the security cameras, and after several days of investigation, concluded that it was two cops keeping tabs on their local outlaw motorcycle club. Jarry was keeping her thumb on us. They never followed us, though. We always left in pairs, as they knew we did not ride alone. However, when the van was taken, they followed. Even if it was just to get gas. We knew that if we congregated, we wouldd most definitely have a tail. We could not afford that. We needed the help of the Riders, and a tail would do nothing to build trust. We needed a plan.  
Chibs had settled for a place the club called “The Quiet Spot.” It was off the beaten path in a small rural area the club owned so we would not get in trouble for trespassing. I had never been to the Quiet Spot, but I had heard it was a great place to fish if you got the chance. It was roughly halfway between Stockton and Long Beach. Three hours, give or take. The only problem was getting there without a tail. We needed a diversion. The ever brilliant Rane Quinn came up with a plan. There was a disgusting little whore dive they liked to visit on runs back when the club was in more illegal enterprises. He thought about leading the cops there, spending the night, keep the pigs entertained while a few of us split off to go to the meet. Tig had an even better plan. The cops would be looking for our bikes. He decided to take our club, The Grim Bastards, and meet up with one of our charters in Modesto for a great, drunken whore party. Meanwhile, Chibs and I go to the meet in one of the cars. The cops would never suspect a thing until they realized that Chibs and I were not there. They would be looking for bikes that were safely parked at home.  
Chibs decided to take the Challenger for this trip, as the other cars were a beacon for cops, anyway. Everyone and their grandmother owned a Challenger. Granted, not many were as souped up as mine. Matte charcoal paint, racing stripes up the hood, hood scoop, spoiler, and blacked-out rims. Chibs was itching to get his hands on the wheel, and when we left that morning, I let him drive. He was not a fan of cages, but one could not argue with the way his eyes lit up when the engine turned over. Once Tig called, confirming they had a tail, we were off.  
  
***  
  
Lieutenant Sheriff Althea Jarry sat behind a computer, her curiosity getting the best of her as she rifled through public records, on the hunt for one particular person. It quickly occurred to her, however, that she had no idea what the person’s name was when she clicked on the search field. She looked down in deep thought, trying to wrack her brain and remember if she had at least heard a first name. She came up with nothing except the memory of the pain after Chibs Telford’s Old Lady smashed her face in. It was nothing a dentist and an ice pack could not fix, but she was still pissed. She wished she had just left them alone, and felt foolish for even entertaining the thought that the SAMCRO President would cut her some slack. It was obvious she would not be able to get to him without his protective girlfriend. She understood that that was her job, but Althea had underestimated their smallest club member.  
Then, she remembered their Vice President mentioning something about this girl being his “daughter.” They were at Ortiz’s house together, and both of them had blue eyes and dark hair. She did not know if it was possible that this girl could be Trager blood, but she quickly typed in “Alexander Trager” and hunted. She found two daughters. Dawn Trager, who to Althea’s surprise, was deceased. She sifted through Dawn’s records, coming up with her driver’s license photo. Definitely not a match for Telford’s Old Lady, but resembled Trager more than the girl who had busted her face in. Next, she tried Fawn. Fawn most definitely looked nothing like her, or her sister Dawn, for that matter. Fawn Trager’s records came up with little to nothing, and Althea found out of the two, she had been more well-behaved. Nothing outstanding. Nothing sinister. A DUI when she was 18, and that was it. She currently resided in San Francisco. Althea then remembered that the MC called each member “brother.” Trager was one of the oldest, if not the oldest in the club now. The patriarch of SAMCRO. Althea’s shoulders sagged when she realized that the use of the word “daughter” had most likely not been literal. Either way, he had had her fooled.  
Althea sighed and closed the tab on Trager and his family. Researching Chibs, as she had several times before, would also come up with nothing. His criminal record, home address, license, citizenship records, passport, and his family. Parents, sister, ex-wife, and his daughter. No leads to his Old Lady, and they most likely intended on keeping it that way for safety reasons. Althea gave up on that search and decided to get back on the task of hunting down Shane Maddox and Lancaster Hanes. It was then she an idea struck her. The club had not had any problems until the girl with the short hair and vicious attitude showed up, and if she had learned anything from Charming, it was that outsiders were always the source of the problem. She wondered if The VII were after SAMCRO because of their newest member.  
Althea ran through Maddox’s files first, coming up with criminal records, family records, including information of his marriage to a Serena Calogera. She found a newspaper article from the wedding, which listed several familiar names that were in attendance. Lancaster and Anna Hanes, Craig and Rita Maddox, Valentino Venza, Melissa Crawford, Zero Owens, Callie Shepherd, Joseph Christmas, Evelyn Cullen, Everett and Fae Calogera, and several more. Althea searched through Hanes and Christmas’ files, coming up short, save for Christmas’ extensive criminal record. She had sifted through Venza’s files, coming up with similar results. She decided to try and see what she could dig up on Owens.  
Running Owens’ name, she found very similar records to the others. DUI’s in high school, arrested for stealing alcohol underage, arrested for possession of drugs, and several other things. He was born the same year as the rest of the club. Not all were from Huntington Beach originally, but all five club members had attended the same school between the 8th grade to their senior year. She found that his date of death was almost seven years ago now. With that, she dug into his death records, finding that he passed away of heart failure, and according to the autopsy report she was able to pull up, his heart had been failing. They noted that his sudden death was a result from smoking. On his obituary, she found a picture of the man, birth and death dates, his date of death being just a year after the wedding article was published. She found on the funeral home’s website and section of condolences from family and friends of Owens. One comment in particular caught her eye.  
  
“ _Z will not be forgotten. He was one of my best friends and such a sweet guy. Great listener. Amazing mind. I wish his parents, brothers, and Callie all the best in this hard time. -M_ ”  
  
Althea’s eyes narrowed, her focused singling out the name. Callie. She backtracked to the article of Maddox’s wedding to find the name “Callie Shepherd” next to Owens’ name. Thinking this must be the same Callie, she switched over to the records database and typed the name in. To her surprise and excitement, the Callie Shepherd in the records was the same girl who was now a SAMCRO member, and on Chibs’ arm.  
  
“I knew it!” Althea whispered.  
  
She rifled through Callie’s records like a child tearing through Christmas presents, finding only basic information, but it was a start. Birthday. Same year as the rest of the members of The VII. Born in Seattle, WA and attended school in Huntington Beach, CA. Both parents were deceased, and after a little research, found a news article: " **MASS SHOOTING IN HUNTINGTON BEACH LIBRARY**." Out of the several dead, two were identified as Callie’s parents. Althea could find no more information on family, nor could she find much at all. Not even a criminal record, which she could hardly believe. As explosive as she was, Althea was hoping to find at least one assault charge. There was nothing. Whether it had been wiped clean or simply never existed was unclear. There was no record of her being affiliated with The VII, either. Only the comment and the wedding article. Her current records showed that she resided in Charming, her address matching that of a Filip Telford. She was living with him, but Althea was not surprised. However, that is where her research fell short. Althea decided to go back to hunt for Owens, and found a news article, which seemed riddled with unclear facts and paranoia. The article was dated almost seven years ago.  
  
“ **KNOWN OUTLAW MC MEMBER FOUND DEAD IN HOME**  
  
_Known outlaw motorcycle club member was found dead last night in his home. Zero Owens, member of Huntington Beach, CA motorcycle club, The VII Deadliest, was found by fiancé, Callie Shepherd. Cause of death is currently unclear, but Shepherd has claimed that Owens was suffering from heart disease, and investigators believe Owens death was caused by heart failure. More information will be released as the investigation continues._ ”  
  
Althea leaned back in her chair. So, that was who she was connected to!  
  
Althea finished up her research, taking notes and piecing together a conclusion. It had seemed that after Owens’ death, Callie remained in Huntington Beach before her move to Charming. There was no information as to why she moved, or why she picked Charming. According to her research, neither Shepherd, nor The VII had any affiliations with SAMCRO. Althea could only assume that Callie met Chibs by coincidence, and perhaps the club had offered her protection. Knowing the Scot, she would not put it past him to offer Callie help. She had no parents, lost her fiancé. She was a biker, though. An Old Lady. Original VII royalty. It was only natural for Shepherd to go nomad. Althea thought that was most likely what had happened. She had stopped in Charming, found SAMCRO, and the rest was history. As someone fascinated with biker culture herself, she could not blame Shepherd. Had she lived another life, she would be doing the same thing.  
Althea closed off of the databases and leaned back in her chair. Callie Shepherd, who lost everything according to the records, migrates north, just so happens to meet SAMCRO, and finds a new life in Charming. That did not explain why Venza and either Hanes or Maddox had hunted down Richards and Ortiz. They could not be using Shepherd as bait, as they had no beef with SAMCRO. Perhaps Shepherd found that she was in trouble and ran. Either way, she knew that she was in a committed and loving relationship with SAMCRO’s President, and if someone was threatening her, he would stop at nothing to make sure the threat was squashed. Althea knew that meant war, and that was exactly what she was trying to keep at bay. The last thing she needed was the D.A. up her ass with ongoing Sons of Anarchy bullshit.  
Althea’s phone rang, and she quickly answered it. It was her partner, Officer Candy Eglee.  
  
“Eglee,” Althea answered.  
  
“We’ve trailed SAMCRO to Modesto. Apparently, they’re having a big get-together out here at a dive bar,” Eglee replied, “Nothing sinister, but we cannot spot Telford or the girl.”  
  
“Callie Shepherd. That’s her name. I found some information her. Not much, but enough,” Althea replied.  
  
“Well, Trager is leading the pack. We’re missing the Prez and his Old Lady,” Eglee replied.  
  
Althea gritted her teeth. She was afraid of that.  
  
“Okay, just keep eyes on SAMCRO. I’ll check the porn studio and TM. Keep me posted,” she replied.  
  
“Roger that,” Eglee replied.  
  
Althea hung up and let out a frustrated groan. She hoped the King showed up to join his men, as she had no motive to put an APB on him, and she knew any wrong step she took, and he found out, he would kill her.  
  
***  
  
The sun beamed down on the water in front of us, glittering and blinding. The occasional bird would fly over into the trees, chirping its happy little ass off. It was warm out today, and in sitting in the sun, made it a little hot. I knew the water would be way too cold to swim in, but that did not mean it was not tempting as it splashed up on the concrete dock. Nevertheless, it was incredibly peaceful here, and it was relaxing to be able to sit on the hood of the Challenger in the sun and just enjoy nature for a minute.  
Chibs paced the end of the loading dock, kicking pebbles into the water with his phone stuck to his ear. I watched him move back and forth, shuffling his boots lazily against the concrete and stopping every three to four steps. When the call was finally over, he snapped his phone shut and walked back up the dock.  
  
“Milo?” I asked.  
  
“Nah. Tig. The tail’s sittin’ on them in Modesto,” he replied.  
  
I shrugged.  
  
“Let ‘em sit,” I said.  
  
Chibs leaned against the side rail and lit a cigarette.  
  
“Aye,” he mumbled around the smoke.  
  
“What time are the Freak Riders supposed to be here?” I asked.  
  
Chibs lowered his cigarette and blew a stream of smoke from the corner of his mouth.  
  
“Noon,” he replied.  
  
I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check the time. It was 11:20. Chibs smiled.  
  
“Might’ve gotten here a little early,” he said.  
  
I smiled at him, replacing my phone.  
  
“Yeah, we did, lead foot,” I replied.  
  
Chibs grinned and looked down at his boots. He had sped the whole way here, gunning it every chance he could just to hear the engine roar.  
I watched him as he finished his cigarette. It may have been that he felt better, and therefore, looked better, but then again, it could have been the bright, warm sun and that he was wearing nothing but a t-shirt under his cut, his wrist, Anarchy tattoo, and the bottom of his Reaper tattoo on display. Either way, regardless of the beautiful scenery, my focus was on him. His hair, freshly washed, was combed back, long pieces falling and framing his face. His eyes were shielded by his purple KD’s, and I could see the top of his million dollar bill tattoo peeking through the v-neck. I was not sure what it was about him on this particular morning. My eyes traced the muscles on his biceps—the way the fitted sleeves curved over his muscles and shoulders. How the cut made his shoulders broader than they already were. The fitted sides dipping down to his waist, fitting snugly above his hips. His beads tucked under the cut. Every time he lifted the cigarette to his lips, I could see the side of the tattoo on his wrist, the letter C and half of an A underneath a wing. When I thought about it too deeply, it became surreal. This wonderful man was mine, and even though it felt awkward to just sit and gawk at him, but I could not help it. I thought my Old Man was smolderingly attractive.  
Chibs finished his cigarette, dropped the butt, and ground the remains into the concrete.  
  
“It’s fuckin’ hot out here,” he growled.  
  
I smiled at him. It was very warm today. Had to be in the 80’s.  
  
“You ever think about taking that cut off?” I asked.  
  
I had left mine in the car. Heavy leather as warm as it was? I was not going to put it on until the Riders arrived.  
Chibs sighed and approached me, taking his time as he admired the front of the car.  
  
“Not on the job, love,” he said.  
  
He stepped in front of me and put his hands on my sides.  
  
“I take it off for one thing, and one thing only,” he said.  
  
I felt my spine turned to mush and my eyes widen. He winked at me and turned away. It was then I finally allowed myself to breathe.  
  
“Take it off,” I said.  
  
Chibs spun around and looked at me in surprise.  
  
“What?” he asked.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Take off the cut,” I said lowly.  
  
I watched his eyes as they darkened, and a predatory grin crossed his lips.  
  
“My, my, love. Feelin’ adventurous?” he asked, stepping in front of me.  
  
“We have time,” I said.  
  
Chibs grinned. He began to unbutton his cut, and in my impatience, I helped shove it from his shoulders—the sound of leather slapping never sounding so good. He leaned over, draped the cut over the railing and took my face in his hands. He kissed me deeply. I gripped a shoulder and cupped his cheek, tasting the cigarette and faint hint of this morning’s coffee on his lips. I kissed him passionately, lost in his warmth. Chibs raised his head and smirked at me.  
  
“You are quite the little minx today, my sweet girl,” he said.  
  
I smiled up at him, wrapping my arms around his neck.  
  
“Well, you’ve been sick. We haven’t been able to spend time together,” I replied.  
  
He smiled.  
  
“Aye. And ya know how hard it is for me to keep my hands off ya. Especially when you’re sitting on top of this sexy car,” he said, leaning his head down to kiss my neck.  
  
I let out a soft moan. Chibs detached himself from my neck.  
  
“I love you, Callie girl,” he said.  
  
I smiled and butted my forehead to his.  
  
“I love you, too, Chibs,” I said.  
  
Chibs nuzzled face against mine, I locked my lips with his and ran my hands down his chest. The kiss heated up with my body temperature, and I was not able to take this slowly much longer. I fumbled for his belt buckle, taking note of his arousal as I blindly pulled it open. There would be no foreplay today.  
Chibs pulled away and unbuttoned my jeans. I lifted my butt and helped the process. Chibs pulled his pants down around his thighs and pulled me to him. He stared at me for a moment, suddenly serious as the tension began to rise. In the blink of an eye, his mouth was on mine, assaulting my lips. Our tongues tangled together as we held each other for deal life. He leaned me back on the hood. The metal wasn’t too hot, but I could feel it through my t-shirt. Chibs pinned me between his arms and teased me as he bit down on my neck. I moaned softly. He raised his head and sunk into me. Upon contact, I tensed in anticipation, already too impatient for what was to come. He grabbed my arms, lifting me up to sit and began to move. It was fast, almost aggressive as the two of us fought for dominance. Chibs held me flush to him as I locked my legs around him, impaling me further and making me cry out into his mouth. His soft moans had me reeling, and all too soon, we were both close. We were overwhelmed, our skin covered in a thin sheet of sweat. I gripped the back of his neck and kissed the side, eliciting a gentle moan from him. His pace quickened, a sudden jolt of pleasure causing me to buck my hips.  
  
“Jesus Christ, Callie,” he breathed out.  
  
I held him tightly and whimpered.  
  
“God, Filip,” I said.  
  
He bucked again and I nearly lost it, crying out loud enough to hear my voice echo.  
  
In the distance, I could have sworn I heard motorcycles.  
  
“Chibs,” I whimpered.  
  
“Tell me what ya want, baby,” he said huskily, making my eyes roll.  
  
“I think I hear bikes,” I said.  
  
But my words were ignored with Chibs suddenly tumbled over the edge.  
  
“Shit!” he hissed, then shuddered and moaned as he climaxed.  
  
His reaction was enough for me to topple over the edge. I let out a high-pitched cry, climaxing, the intensity making me lose all sense of reality for a moment. When I came down, though, Chibs froze. The sound of motorcycles became louder.  
  
“Shit!” he exclaimed.  
  
We broke away from each other just in time to redress, grab our cuts, and try to make ourselves look a little less disheveled. I fixed Chibs cut as he fixed my hair.  
  
“Just enough time,” he said breathlessly.  
  
I laughed.  
  
“I know,” I agreed.  
  
He smiled and kissed me once more as a line of familiar bikes came down the gravel drive.  
  
“When we get back home, I’ll love ya right,” he said.  
  
A growl caught in my throat. He was going to leave me hot and bothered all day. Chibs was not a love you and leave you man. He took the time to make sure you knew how much he loved you, and I was ready to return the favor. But first, it was time to be reunited with a MC I had not seen in years.


	38. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofread and edited.

I slipped my cut on and shut the car door as the Freak Riders pulled up. Chibs was standing at the rear of the car. I walked around the trunk to see four familiar guys dismount their bikes, all wearing black leather cuts with white and purple patches. Their bikes were choppers of all kinds, all custom, all tricked out, the color scheme being black, purple, or indigo. They were missing the bright purple chopper that always led the pack. I sighed, not realizing how bad it would hurt to see AJ missing. However, it was good to see their current President, Mr. Milo.  
Milo was a giant guy. Around 6’ 3”, with muscles that made Shane, as well as Rane look like a squirt. His hair was just as big. Head full of ashy blonde dreads, and a black bandana tied around his head to hold them back. He had a gentle face. Friendly brown eyes, huge smile, big beard. Following him were his new VP, Jordie Sacco, and Jordie’s twin brother, Jeffrey Sacco. The two were identical in every single way. Long, beautiful black hair, olive skin, dark brown eyes. Same height. Roughly the same weight. The only difference when the cuts were off were Jeffrey’s glasses. The last, the Freak Riders’ Sergeant at Arms, was Gavin Fabi. He was as far from the others as could be. Light brown hair that touched his shoulders, blonde highlights, a lip ring and eyebrow piercing. About Chibs’ height. Excluding the absence of their dearly departed Prez, none of them had changed a bit.  
  
“Milo,” Chibs greeted, offering his hand.  
  
Milo smiled and shook it.  
  
“You must be Chibs,” Milo replied.  
  
Chibs nodded. Milo looked to me and his face lit up.  
  
“Callie fuckin’ Shepherd! Goddamn, girl!” he shouted, his big voice bellowing off the trees.  
  
I smiled and walked up to hug him.  
  
“Hey, man!” I said, my body getting swallowed by his arms.  
  
We parted and Jordie pulled at the sleeve of my cut.  
  
“Holy shit! Old VII royalty, turned SAMCRO royalty. Hell yeah!” he said excitedly.  
  
I just laughed.  
  
“Probably the safest place for her,” Milo said, then bro-hugged Chibs, “Hey, thanks for keeping her safe, man. You have no idea how much she wanted to be a part of a club.”  
  
Chibs gave him a small smile and patted his back.  
  
“No problem,” he said.  
  
Jeffrey patted my back and Gavin perched his chin on my head. I laughed at them. I had forgotten how goofy they could be.  
  
“Where’s the rest of your club?” Jordie asked.  
  
“On a fake-out run,” I replied.  
  
Milo looked concerned.  
  
“We’ve been havin’ a local problem with our ever watchful sheriff,” Chibs explained, “Had to bring a cage.”  
  
“And a fucking nice one!” Gavin added.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Well, I wish we came with good news. Unfortunately, it’s not,” Milo said.  
  
“Yeah, but don’t think we don’t want The VII dead, too. After what they did to Z?” Jordie sneered.  
  
“Yeah, they’re dead,” Jeffrey agreed.  
  
“And now putting Cal in danger? Shit, man,” Milo said.  
  
“Yeah. They’ve already dropped two of our guys,” Chibs said.  
  
Milo nodded.  
  
“And I heard someone dropped that little Italian prick,” he laughed, “Sounds like something the world’s smallest assassin would do.”  
  
I sat on the trunk of the car and rested my elbow on Chibs’ shoulder.  
  
“I wish I could take credit for that one,” I said.  
  
Milo grinned.  
  
“Hey! Doesn’t matter. They’re down to three. They’re not a club without four,” he said.  
  
“But, they were able to get Jojo out,” Jordie said.  
  
I’m sure Chibs’ mirrored my disappointment.  
  
“Shit!” Chibs hissed.  
  
“Now it’s just three angry guys after SAMCRO. Shane marked Cal a rat, and now they have a hit on the club. Retaliation for killing Tino,” Milo said.  
  
“Goddammit!” I growled.  
  
“Hey, we got your back,” Gavin said, “You, your Prez. The whole club.”  
  
“Absolutely,” Milo agreed.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“Well, we have an offer for ya guys,” he said.  
  
All attention was on Chibs.  
  
“We need all the intel we can get on these bastards. And we need full credibility from the Freak Riders,” he said, “We can compensate for your trouble.”  
  
Milo looked upon Chibs with a stern expression and clapped a hand on his shoulder.  
  
“Brother, we can’t take your money. We want to form an alliance with the Sons,” he said.  
  
“If you break alliances with The VII, they’ll kill you the next time they see a window to do it in,” I said to Milo.  
  
Milo grinned.  
  
“Who? They’re not a club anymore, Cal. I lost my respect for them when Z died. We’re on your side,” he said.  
  
“They didn’t have their shit together, anyway,” Jeffrey said.  
  
“Yeah, we always pushed Z to challenge Shane. Change leadership. Maybe then they would act like a real MC and not a fucking mob,” Jordie said.  
  
“After Z died, it all went to hell. Now we know why. We want to help you guys,” Milo said, “We’ll give you all the intel. Trust me. I can see how much Callie loves you guys.”  
  
He reached down and picked up Chibs arm, pointing to the tattoo on his wrist. Chibs looked shocked, and Milo smiled.  
  
“I never miss a tattoo. She’s obviously found her way home,” he said.  
  
Chibs was speechless. Milo reached up to me and patted my cheek.  
  
“You picked a good Queen,” he said.  
  
Chibs smiled and looked to me. I smiled back at him.  
  
“You have my word, brother, the Freak Riders have your back,” Milo said.  
  
Chibs looked back to him and shook his hand.  
  
“If ya guys need anythin’, call,” Chibs said.  
  
Milo nodded.  
  
“Absolutely, brother,” he replied.  
  
I smiled at Milo and Chibs. We needed this alliance desperately, and I was so glad to see them again. It gave me a sense of closure, and I wished everyone had been there to meet them. We had four new brothers, and a sudden idea flew through my head as we began to leave.  
  
“Patch over,” I said.  
  
Chibs stared at me over the hood of the car.  
  
“What?” he asked in surprise.  
  
“After this shit blows over, let’s patch them over,” I said.  
  
We sat down in the car and buckled ourselves in.  
  
“SAMLONG?” he asked.  
  
I laughed.  
  
“Yeah,” I said.  
  
Chibs started the Challenger and put it in gear.  
  
“Well, Tiggy does love a good patch over party,” he said.  
  
I laughed at that. I’m sure he did.  
  
Chibs leaned over and I was greeted my a quick kiss.  
  
“We’ll see, love. Right now, I wanna get home,” he said.  
  
I just laughed.  
  
“I bet you do,” I teased.  
  
Chibs grinned and looked over his shoulder, backing up and pulling up the drive. When he stopped at the turn, I leaned over and fiddled with the flap of his breast pocket.  
  
“But this time, leave the cut on,” I said lowly.  
  
His eyes rolled back and his head fell to the side, staring at me with a grin.  
  
“You wear it,” he said, then stomped the gas, speeding out of the driveway.  
  
The three hour drive took only two and half hours, and we barely made it back down the hall.  
  
***  
  
For the next few weeks, all was quiet. Business at TM was moving along steadily, and we heard nothing from our newest allies, or much from Althea. It made us all very nervous.  
The tail had stopped hanging around, and Tig checked all cars on the block every day just to make sure. We heard that the investigators in Huntington had taken Shane and L in for questioning, but nothing more. Chibs suggested we keep a look out. Watch our backs at all times. It was the only thing we could do for now. I felt like a fish in a barrel. It could be days before The VII tried to strike again, or it could be hours. It made my anxiety shoot through the roof, and I hoped that was the cause of my stomach rolling.  
I sat on a stool, slumped over the seat of the Suzuki while Tig helped me change the oil. My eyelids felt heavy, and had felt like that all day. It took Chibs nearly an hour to get me out of bed, much less eat breakfast. I was exhausted, and as the day rolled on, so did my stomach. I had ignored the cramping, passing it off as indigestion as I rode alongside Chibs to TM, keeping extra close. At TM, I downed two cups of coffee, and by the afternoon, I still could not wake up.  
  
“Callie, hand me that wrench, baby girl,” Tig said.  
  
I opened my eyes, his words going unheard.  
  
“Callie!”  
  
I jumped and looked up. Tig snapped his fingers.  
  
“What is up with you? Are you okay?” he asked, concerned.  
  
I just shook my head and laid back down, blindly reaching for the wrench and handing it over. He took it and stood up, running a hand over my hair and feeling my cheeks.  
  
“You’re not hot,” he said, “But you don’t look so good, either.”  
  
“I’m just tired,” I murmured.  
  
He exhaled sharply and cast a glance to the clubhouse.  
  
“I’ll kill Chibby,” he said.  
  
I smiled slightly.  
  
“I had a full night’s sleep. I just can’t wake up,” I replied.  
  
I had a feeling I was in for one hell of a period.  
  
“Go get you a coffee, sweetheart,” he said, sitting back down.  
  
I snorted.  
  
“I’ve had so much coffee, it feels like I’m gonna puke,” I said.  
  
Which was no lie, and as I spoke, I felt my stomach cramp. I hissed and clutched it. Tig sighed and put a hand on my shoulder.  
  
“Go lay down, baby girl. I’ll finish this for you,” he said.  
  
I just nodded and used all of my strength to haul myself to my feet and walked to the office, feeling a little dizzy. Chucky looked up at me and frowned as I entered.  
  
“Hey, Cal,” he said.  
  
I walked straight to the couch and flopped down on it.  
  
“Could you go get me a water, Chucky? Please?” I asked.  
  
I heard him move.  
  
“Absolutely. You okay?” he asked.  
  
“Just dehydrated,” I replied.  
  
Chucky said no more as he left. The more I thought about it, I realized I could very well be dehydrated. Coffee only did so much, and I did not remember having a water the day before. Just Coke and coffee. I cursed myself for not drinking any water, and my stomach cursed with me.  
  
***  
  
Chibs downed a shot of whiskey and walked out of the office after cleaning up and doing some book work that he thoroughly detested. As he walked out to the bar, he spotted Chucky walking to the kitchen, straight to the large, industrial-sized refrigerator.  
  
“Hey, Chuckles,” he said.  
  
Chucky turned his head and smiled.  
  
“Hey, boss,” he said, then opened the refrigerator door.  
  
Chibs put the bottle of whiskey back behind the bar and wandered over to the kitchen. His eyes felt dry from staring at maps and numbers, and he needed a pick-me-up. Chucky always made him laugh, so he decided to engage him. See how the smaller man’s day was going before he went out to the garage. He walked inside the doorway of the kitchen and leaned against the frame, watching as Chucky selected a chilled bottle of water. Chibs’ eyebrows furrowed.  
  
“Is the mini-fridge empty?” he asked.  
  
Chucky grabbed a paper towel and wrapped it carefully around the cold bottle.  
  
“No, there just wasn’t any water in it. Callie wanted one. I don’t think she feels good,” he said.  
  
Chibs’ spine went rigid as he stared at Chucky in alarm.  
  
“What do ya mean?” he asked.  
  
Chucky shrugged as he walked by him.  
  
“She didn’t say anything. Just that she wanted some water. She didn’t look too hot,” he said.  
  
Chibs fell into step beside him, his steps quick and determined.  
  
“Where is she?” he asked.  
  
“Office,” Chucky replied.  
  
Chibs nodded and followed Chucky across the compound to the office. Callie had not been herself all morning, and now his worry had kicked into high gear.  
  
***  
  
I heard the door open, and opened my eyes to see sunlight on the ceiling. I rolled onto my back to see Chucky enter, another figure behind him. He smiled kindly, opened the bottle, handed it to me.  
  
“Thank-you, Chucky,” I said.  
  
He smiled and nodded before returning to the desk. I sat up and sipped the cold water, enjoying the relieving chill as it hit stomach. Chibs had followed Chucky in, and I could see the deep concern written on his face.  
  
“Hey, darlin’,” he said softly.  
  
I looked up at him as I put the cap back on the bottle. He sat on the edge of the cushions and put an arm around my shoulders.  
  
“Ya okay?” he asked.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
“Headache?” he asked.  
  
I settled back down and let my head rest against his hip.  
  
“Stomach,” I replied.  
  
He sighed and turned to me.  
  
“Can ya sit up for me, love?” he asked.  
  
I grunted and pushed myself up. He slipped himself under me and I laid my head in his lap, turning my head to rest the side of my face on his stomach.  
  
“I am never eating Molten Cantina tacos ever again,” I grumbled.  
  
Chibs chuckled and brushed my fringe out of my eyes.  
  
“It’s probably the lava sauce. Overdid it,” he replied.  
  
“I know, but it was good.”  
  
Chibs reached down and lightly rubbed my stomach. It actually helped relieve the cramping, and I was able to rest in peace for a moment.  
  
“Have ya puked or anythin’?” he asked.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
“Nothing,” I replied, “Feel like I could.”  
  
Chibs sighed.  
  
“‘Kay. Well, I’m done here for today. You good to ride?” he asked.  
  
I shook my head. Doubt I had the strength to hold my bike up.  
  
“Alright. Ya can leave the Suzuki in the garage. I’ll run home and get the car and come pick ya up, okay?” he asked.  
  
I just nodded. He slipped a pillow under my head.  
  
“Love you,” he said softly.  
  
I opened my eyes and smiled. He kissed me lightly.  
  
“Love you, too,” I murmured.  
  
He smiled and ruffled my hair before telling Chucky to keep an eye on me.  
  
***  
  
Chibs walked out to the garage to find Tig finishing up on Callie’s bike.  
  
“Hey,” Chibs said.  
  
Tig looked up from wiping oil from his hands.  
  
“Hey, brother,” he replied.  
  
Chibs pointed to the bike.  
  
“Ya finished with this beast?” he asked.  
  
Tig nodded.  
  
“Yeah. I was going to push it back out. I’m scared to ride it,” he said.  
  
Chibs laughed.  
  
“I’ll just move it to the side. Lock it up in here. I’m gonna run to the house and get the car. Callie can’t ride,” he said.  
  
Tig cringed.  
  
“She’s been out of it all day. Is she okay?” he asked worriedly.  
  
Chibs put his hands on his hips.  
  
“She says her stomach hurts. Could be indigestion,” he said.  
  
“Brother, she fell asleep while I was trying to talk to her. Something’s not right. Was she up all night?” Tig asked.  
  
Chibs shook his head.  
  
“Nah. She went to bed around 11:00. Out like a light,” he replied.  
  
Tig shook his head and put his tools up.  
  
“Well, it can’t be food poisoning. It would have already hit her. You don’t think it’s her appendix?” he asked.  
  
Chibs’ eyes widened. That had not crossed his mind.  
  
“If she gets worse, we’ll go to St. Thomas. I doubt that’s it, though,” he said, “She’d be running a fever.”  
  
“Yeah, she wasn’t hot,” Tig agreed.  
  
“Might be the worst part of the month for her, if ya know what I mean,” Chibs replied.  
  
Tig cringed and held his hands up.  
  
“Stop!”  
  
Chibs grinned.  
  
“Could be dehydration, though. But, we’ll see. I’m gonna head to the house. Keep an eye on her, yeah?”  
  
Tig nodded.  
  
“Absolutely, brother,” he replied.  
  
With that, Chibs hugged his VP and said goodbye to the other mechanics and club members on duty before walking out to his Dyna and speeding home.  
  
***  
  
I sat curled up in one of the recliners, dozing in and out while watching TV. After a nap, my stomach finally settled, leaving me exhausted and just simply drained. The cramping had ceased, and the rolling was gone. However, I still felt like shit. Chibs was doing various house chores, leaving me to nap. When I woke up again, it was dusk, and some weird movie was playing on TV. I had lost track of the remote, so I settled for whatever was playing, only to find out it was _Alien Vs. Predator_ after the commercial break. I had never seen it, and thought it might be interesting. However, I had missed part of it, so it did not make any sense. I twisted myself around in the wide recliner, pulled my blanket up, and found myself drawn to the blonde dude on the screen. He looked like someone I knew.  
Chibs entered the living room and walked up to me.  
  
“Hey, darlin’,” he said softly.  
  
I looked up at him and smiled.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
He rubbed the top of my head.  
  
“Whatcha watchin’?” he asked.  
  
I shrugged.  
  
“ _Alien Vs. Predator_ ,” I replied, “I normally don’t like these kind of movies, but I thought I’d give it a try.”  
  
Chibs lightly rubbed the back of my neck. I looked up at him, then back at the screen to the blonde dude and smiled. He slightly resembled Chibs in a way.  
  
“Ya feelin’ any better?” he asked.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Ya think ya can stomach somethin’?” he asked.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
“Ya didn’t eat lunch, love, and ya barely ate breakfast. Ya can’t try something simple? Crackers? Toast?” he asked.  
  
I shook my head again.  
  
“Maybe later,” I replied, more to satisfy him than anything.  
  
I did not want anything in my stomach. If I felt that pain again, I would surely vom.  
  
“‘Kay. Well, can ya at least drink this? Keep yourself hydrated?” he asked.  
  
I looked up to see him holding a bottle of blue Gatorade. I nodded and took it, opening it and sipping it. I was a little thirsty. He smiled and ran his fingers through my hair.  
  
“Can I sit with ya?” he asked playfully.  
  
I smiled up him and shrunk into a corner. He slid in and I climbed into his lap. He leaned the recliner back and pulled the blanket over my legs. I settled against his shoulder, my left side and butt sliding into the corner of the chair. He wrapped his right arm around me and draped the other over my legs, rubbing a thigh through the fleece. I pointed to the screen.  
  
“You see that blonde dude?” I asked.  
  
Chibs squinted.  
  
“Which one, love?” he asked.  
  
I stretched my arm out, as if it would make a more precise point.  
  
“That one right,” I paused until the camera was on him again, “there!”  
  
“Oh! Yeah,” he replied.  
  
I looked up at him and smiled.  
  
“He could be your twin,” I said jokingly.  
  
Chibs burst out laughing.  
  
“Jesus!” he said.  
  
I laughed and looked back to the screen.  
  
“Well, he could be,” I said.  
  
“I would never bleach my hair. Not in a million years!” he said.  
  
I laughed at that. I did not think he would make a good blonde either.  
  
We settled in silence, Chibs making fun of the special effects. They were a little shabby. Reminded me of the Power Rangers show a little. I lost interest in the movie after a while, and nuzzled against his collarbone. I put an arm around his torso and closed my eyes, having a sudden desire to cuddle. He did not object, and shifted so he could hold me and kissed my forehead. I let my hand clutch the beads around his neck as little Thomas had. He did not seem to mind, and with his body heat and a thumb rubbing my lower back, I was lulled to sleep once again.  
  
***  
  
Chibs kissed Callie’s forehead. Her eyelids fell closed, glassy blue eyes disappearing, and her breathing becoming steady. She fell asleep in his arms, and he hated that the only thing he could do to soothe her was this. Of course, if he could spend all day holding her, he would, but he knew she was in pain, and that bothered him. He wished there was more he could do. It was natural for him to get anxious when someone did not feel themselves. He was someone who wanted to help in any way possible. His inner doctor. He wished there was a pill, or band-aid to make this right. Something he could rub ointment on or stitch up. A kind of pain that could be remedied by stretching and massaging the muscle. Something he could physically do, knowing he was making a difference. In this case, there was nothing to do but wait.  
He sighed and laid his head against hers, ignoring the movie and his stomach growling, ready for the leftover Molten burrito in the refrigerator. He was no stranger to ignoring hunger, and he was not about to get up and rouse his Old Lady. He would sit with her all night until she was well again. Or at least, until he was sure she was on the mend. Until she needed him. He was right there.  
  
***  
  
The next day came with only a simple headache from dehydration and an itch to go outside and ride my bike. The pain was gone, and had remained that way throughout the night. When I woke up, it was the break of dawn, and surprisingly enough, Chibs was still beneath me, snoring softly. He had not moved throughout the entire night. I smiled and laid my head back on his shoulder. I reached into my pocket for my phone to check the time. I knew it was early, but I needed to get up, have a shower, and get to TM before they opened so the guys could help me put the finishing touches on the Sportster.  
I opened my phone, noting its battery was low, and saw that it was almost 6:30. However, when my eyes fell upon the date, I did a double-take, blinking is disbelief. I even closed my phone and opened it again to see that the date remained unchanged. Suddenly, my mood shot through the roof, making my morning instantly better. I was never one to keep track of dates, but this was a pleasant surprise.  
I carefully slipped off of Chibs, who sniffed sharply and woke up.  
  
“Morning, baby,” I said as I caught the blanket before it could hit the floor.  
  
Chibs looked up at me and smiled.  
  
“Mornin’, sweetheart. Ya feelin’ better?” he asked.  
  
I smiled and nodded, then leaned over and tilted his chin up to kiss him.  
  
“You can go back to sleep. It’s still early. I’m going to go take a shower,” I said.  
  
He nodded.  
  
“‘Kay,” he said sleepily.  
  
I knew he would probably pass out again, but that was okay. It gave me time to get ready without him needing in the bathroom. The curse of a one-bathroom house with more than one occupant.  
After my shower, Chibs had his while I made myself breakfast. I did not even dare make anything heavy. Just toast with butter, then afterwards half a glass of water to wash everything down. If I was starving by 9:00, that was fine. So long as I did not get another stomachache. I still had no idea what brought it on. I never puked or had to surrender to the toilet. Just a weird day of misery, I suppose. Whatever it was, it seemed to be over with, and I felt pretty good today. A little stiff from not moving much yesterday, but other than that, I was fine. I even had coffee ready to go by the time Chibs returned from his shower, wearing a gray, short-sleeved t-shirt and blue jeans with his brown lace boots.  
  
“Hey, sweetheart. Coffee’s hot,” I said as I rinsed my plate.  
  
He tucked his necklace into his shirt and glanced at the coffee machine.  
  
“Thank-you, lovely,” he said, then walked by me and kissed the top of my head, “I’m gonna have a smoke. Did ya eat?”  
  
I placed my plate in the drainer and finished my water.  
  
“Yeah. Toast,” I replied.  
  
He nodded and smiled, glad that I was on the mend. He slipped out onto the back porch and I followed, not interested in having smoke. Since I had almost choked myself after the nightmare I had before I received my crow, I had not wanted to touch another. The cravings were hell, but I pushed through it, as hard as it was. I just kept myself busy and remembered how I thought I was going to die from choking to death.  
Chibs was leaning against the railing. I perched myself on the wooden beams, facing him.  
  
“You have your phone on you?” I asked.  
  
He nodded.  
  
“What’s today?” I asked.  
  
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked it.  
  
“May 14th,” he replied.  
  
I nodded. My phone was accurate.  
  
“Why?” he asked, taking one of my hands in his, “What’s so special about today?”  
  
I bit my lip. I did not want a big deal to be made when I told him, but knowing him, he’d figure out some way to glamorize it.  
  
“I turn 34 today,” I said, acting like it was no big deal and looking away from him.  
  
He froze.  
  
“You’re shittin’ me!” he exclaimed.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
“Today’s your birthday?” he asked, eyes as big as baseballs.  
  
I nodded meekly.  
  
“Yeah. Lost track of the days. I keep thinking it’s still April,” I replied.  
  
A smile slowly appeared on his lips, and he lifted the hand he was holding to kiss my knuckles. I smiled and his lips crashed against mine.  
  
“Happy Birthday, sweet girl,” he said, “We’ll do somethin’ special tonight.”  
  
I smiled and put my arms around his neck.  
  
“You don’t have to do anything out of the way. It’s just another day to me,” I said.  
  
He smirked. He already had a plan in his thick skull. I could see it in his eyes.  
  
“Bullshit, Callie. We’ll do somethin’. Party at the clubhouse or somethin’,” he said.  
  
And he wouldd have all the arrangements made within an hour.  
  
“How about we just go riding?” I suggested, “My bike will be finished today. We can go out to the overlook. Chase off all the teenagers?”  
  
He smiled at that.  
  
“Sounds good to me, love,” he said.  
  
I kissed him once more before he finished his smoke and we returned inside.  
  
At TM, Happy was waiting for me. He waved me into the garage and away from the guys.  
  
“Is it finished?” I asked.  
  
“Yeah! Check this shit out,” he said excitedly.  
  
He brought me over to the airbrush station and produced the tear-drop gas tank that would soon be added to the rest of the bike and refilled with gas. When I saw the artwork on it, my jaw dropped. On the widest end on the right side was a bright yellow sun, its rays fanning out across the tank.  
  
“Holy shit, Hap! This is beautiful!” I gushed.  
  
He smiled.  
  
“You like it?” he asked.  
  
I smiled and hugged him.  
  
“I love it. You did an amazing job,” I said, “Thank-you.”  
  
“You’re welcome, kid,” he replied.  
  
We parted and looked back down at the tank.  
  
“Can I ask why you wanted a sun on it?” he asked.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“You’ll see. I want to show it to everyone first,” I said.  
  
Happy nodded. We heard Chibs’ voice carry into the garage as he spoke to Rane, and quickly recovered it with a sheet. He held his index finger to his lips, shushing me. I smiled and we walked away from the tank to our Prez and waited for the rest of our brothers to arrive.  
It did not take long for everyone to come in. Tig and T.O. arrived at the same time, and Rat shortly after. Montez was the last to arrive. Happy carefully wrapped up the tank and led us to the clubhouse as the garage opened up for the day. Chibs fell in step with me and gestured to Happy.  
  
“What’s he doin’?” he asked.  
  
I smiled up at him.  
  
“He wanted to show you guys how well the airbrush kit works,” I replied.  
  
Chibs just shrugged. Happy led us inside the clubhouse and brought the tank around to the pool table.  
  
“You let him airbrush your tank?” Tig asked, “I thought we were sticking with red and black?”  
  
“Ruined,” Rat said.  
  
Happy looked ready snap the boy’s head off.  
  
“Would you guys just shut up?” I asked, then turned to Happy, “Show them, Hap.”  
  
Happy smiled and pulled the sheet off, revealing the candy apple red tank, and turned it so the guys could see his artwork.  
  
“Holy shit!” Chibs exclaimed.  
  
Tig leaned over for a closer look.  
  
“Oh wow, Hap. That’s beautiful,” he said.  
  
Happy smiled, then cut his eyes at Rat.  
  
“What do ya gotta say about it now, fool?” he asked.  
  
We laughed and Rat cowered.  
  
“I was just kidding. Damn!” he said meekly.  
  
I walked by him and patted his back.  
  
“That looks so real,” Tig commented.  
  
Chibs gave Happy a thumbs-up.  
  
“Flawless,” he commented, then turned to me, “Why a sun, though?”  
  
I sat on the edge of the pool table and looked down at the tank.  
  
“Juicey,” I replied, “I wanted some kind of tribute to him.”  
  
Chibs smiled warmly, then walked up to hug me.  
  
“It’s beautiful, sweetheart,” he said.  
  
“That is fucking beautiful, Callie. Good job, Hap,” Rane said.  
  
I watched him give the Sergeant at Arms a high-five.  
  
“Well, let’s go out there and put the bike together,” Tig said, “All of your parts are in.”  
  
“Let’s get on that, and then tonight, I want everyone back here at 7:00. All of us,” Chibs said.  
  
The boys looked confused.  
  
“Why?” Rat asked.  
  
Chibs put an arm around my shoulders and smiled. I felt my face fall.  
  
“Oh, Chibs. Come on!” I protested.  
  
“Our Callie thought she could get away with not telling us today was her birthday,” he replied.  
  
The guys smiled. Tig attacked me with a hug.  
  
“Happy Birthday, baby girl. Why didn’t you want us to know?” he asked.  
  
I shrugged.  
  
“It’s no big deal,” I replied.  
  
Tig’s eyes were terrifying.  
  
“Bullshit,” he said.  
  
Chibs laughed.  
  
“That’s what I said!”  
  
Tig smiled and shook his head.  
  
“We’re partying. I’ll have Venus make you a cake. How old are you?” he asked.  
  
“34,” I replied.  
  
“Then, 34 candles it is. We’re partying hard tonight, darlin’,” he said.  
  
I just smiled. There was no getting out of this.  
  
Chibs clapped his hands together.  
  
“Out with all of ya! Hap, take that tank back out so they can get started. I need to talk to Callie for a minute,” he said.  
  
I turned my head to look up at him in confusion. What did I do now?  
  
Happy recovered the tank and toted it back out, following the rest of our brothers out the door. We waited in silence until the door was closed before Chibs spoke.  
  
“Why don’t ya want us celebratin’ your birthday?” he asked.  
  
I looked down, ashamed of myself. For years, since Z died, I had detested the day. It became a dark day for me. That and Christmas. Happy days did not hold any joy when you lived alone, the people dearest to you were six feet in the ground.  
  
“Never had a reason to be excited about it. Didn’t think I’d make it to this one, either,” I replied quietly, not meeting his eyes.  
  
Chibs sighed and pulled me into a hug.  
  
“Well, get excited. Ya have seven of us who want to see as many of your birthdays as possible,” he said, pulling back to cup my cheek, “This is gonna be the best one. I promise.”  
  
I smiled at that, and he leaned over and kissed me.  
  
“I’m holding you to that,” I said.  
  
He grinned and took my hips, helping me down from the table.  
  
“Come on. Let’s go finish that bike,” he said.  
  
I agreed and followed him out the door.  
  
***  
  
“What happened to you yesterday, baby girl? Food poisoning?” Tig asked as I helped install my custom seat, which allowed me just a little bit more leg room.  
  
“I don’t fucking know, man. It was weird. It quit by the time I got home. Most likely dehydration. I have a little bit of a headache today, but other than that, I’m fine,” I replied.  
  
Tig fought with the seat, as the stud beneath it refused to cooperate.  
  
“What the hell is wrong with this? Where’d you buy this?” he asked, frustrated.  
  
“Harley. It’s supposed to work just fine,” I replied.  
  
Tig wiggled the seat and moved it at an angle before it finally slipped into place with a loud click.  
  
“Got it?” I asked.  
  
Tig sighed.  
  
“Yeah. Shit,” he said.  
  
I laughed and held up the screw so he could finish the installation.  
  
“Chibby thought it might be…you know? The bad time,” he said.  
  
I furrowed my eyebrows. It took me a second before I realized what he was talking about.  
  
“Oh! That!” I said, “I sure fucking hope so!”  
  
Tig laughed and finished installing the seat.  
  
“Viola, baby girl! Your bike is complete. I’ll see if we have a gas can sitting around. We can fill it up a little and you can take it to the gas station down the street and top it off. Chibby said you wanted to go riding.”  
  
I nodded.  
  
“When you get back, we’ll go after we close and go eat. Wherever you want. On me,” he said.  
  
I smiled and walked around the bike to hug him.  
  
“Thank-you, Tiggy,” I said.  
  
Tig gave me a light squeeze and kissed the top of my head.  
  
“You’re so welcome, baby girl. And Happy Birthday,” he said softly.  
  
I smiled up at him. He had no idea how much I appreciated everything he, as well as the rest of the club did for me.  
  
“What are ya gonna do about that one? That’s four bikes and a car at Chibby’s,” he said.  
  
I cast a glance at the Suzuki. So much money had been spent on it. Changing the wheels and the seat. Turbo-charging it. Many things I could not even bring to mind. Now, it just reminded me of Juice’s bike, and how much of a beacon it was for people who wanted me dead.  
  
“Get me a For Sale sign. Put the money in the treasury account,” I said.  
  
Tig’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped.  
  
“Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t want it anymore?” he asked in surprise.  
  
I smiled at him.  
  
“Zero started me on Harley. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I started riding with you guys. I think it’s time to get back to it full time,” I replied.  
  
He smiled.  
  
“Once a Harley rider, always a Harley rider,” he said.  
  
I laughed as he patted my back.  
  
“Hey, Rat?” Tig barked across the garage.  
  
Rat’s head popped up from a bike he was working on.  
  
“Yeah?” he asked.  
  
“Find a gas can. See if you can find one with some gas in it so we can get this bike warmed up,” he said.  
  
Rat nodded and passed off his work to a mechanic he was helping before pursuing the gas can. He returned with one a few minutes later and passed it off to Tig. Tig shook it, listening for how much it contained.  
  
“That should be enough to get ya to the gas station,” he said.  
  
I nodded and took the can, opening the tank and filling it. Afterwards, I started the bike and let it warm up for a minute.  
  
“I’ll let Chibby know you ran to get gas. Are you carrying?” he asked.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Always,” I replied.  
  
Tig nodded and kissed my forehead.  
  
“Be safe. Take it easy until you break it in,” he said.  
  
I nodded and slowly let off on the clutch, rolling forward and feeling the power begin to seep in. I was so ready to hit the highway tonight.  
I rode out of the compound and looked both ways before crossing the road and riding down to the gas station on the corner, being able to change gears for the first time. Tig and everyone else who helped me rebuild the bike knew exactly what they were doing. I had never ridden such a responsive and well-mannered little bike. Even the Dyna tried to bite. This one was just like Tig had said—made for me.  
I pulled up to the gas station and selected one of the four pumps. It was a small convenience store that was club friendly, and I had become familiar with the plump lady who owned it. She was always nice to us. Her husband rode bikes before he wrecked and lost his life on a road trip. That was an unfortunate curse of being a biker, but she always seemed in good graces, and gave us free food from the grill. Besides that, she was quite smitten with Rane.  
  
“Hey, girl!” she said as I walked in.  
  
“Hey,” I replied.  
  
“How much ya need, sugar?” she asked.  
  
“$10. Pump #2,” I replied.  
  
I handed her a ten dollar bill.  
  
“You got you a new bike, I see,” she said, looking out the window, “You’re riding something different every time I see ya.”  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Well, I was having an issue with mine. Borrowed my Old Man’s Dyna. Tigger bought me that when I patched in. Just now got it finished,” I replied.  
  
She smiled.  
  
“Well, you have fun on that thing. And ride safe,” she said.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“I will. Thank-you.”  
  
“See ya later, girl,” she replied.  
  
I walked back outside, waited for a car to pass, then proceeded across the parking lot to the pump. I wondered if ten was too much to fill it, but the pump stopped just as the liquid made it to the rim. I smiled to myself and hung up the nozzle before replacing the gas cap. I began to put my helmet on when a black van squealed up beside me. I did not have time to react as the side door opened and a guy dressed completely in black climbed out and grabbed me. I screamed and fought against him, but he covered my mouth with a gloved hand and threw me into the van, my bike getting knocked over in the process.  
  
“You got her?” I heard someone ask as I fumbled around the dark van, trying to get up and fight back.  
  
The door closed and the man took his mask off, revealing a little motherfucker I knew all too well.  
  
“Yeah. Let’s get the fuck out of here!” he replied.  
  
With that, they stepped on the gas.  
  
***  
  
Tig returned from using the bathroom and walked out into the parking lot. He was surprised the find that the little red Sportster was still not back. He walked around the corner to see no one leaving or entering the lot. He knew it did not take 20 minutes to get gas. He checked his phone for missed calls, wondering if perhaps the bike had stalled and she was stranded. He found no missed calls, and decided to go find Chibs, thinking he might have been called. He turned on his heel and walked back into the clubhouse.  
Chibs was in the office and was just coming out, lighting a cigarette on the way.  
  
“Hey,” Tig said.  
  
Chibs looked up and blew smoke out of his mouth.  
  
“Hey. Callie back?” he asked.  
  
Tig shook his head.  
  
“No,” he replied.  
  
Chibs froze.  
  
“Well, where the hell is she?” he asked.  
  
“I don’t know, brother. She left 20 minutes ago. Has she called you?” he asked.  
  
Chibs began to walk to the door and Tig followed behind. Chibs checked his phone, finding nothing. His heart began to race. It was a five minute drive to the gas station, and took ten minutes on a bad day to get gas. She should have been back by now.  
  
“Tiggy, go find her,” he said.  
  
Tig nodded and jogged off to his bike. Chibs sat down on one of the picnic tables and finished his cigarette, nervously tapping his fingers on his pants legs and cursing himself for not going with her.  
His phone, which he was clutching tightly in his hand, vibrated with a call just as Tig was leaving. He quickly answered it.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Chibs? It’s Milo. Brother, The VII are in Charming. We just got wind of their whereabouts. You gotta get Callie somewhere safe,” he said.  
  
Chibs felt his blood run cold.  
  
“Chibs?” Milo asked when he didn’t reply.  
  
“Aye,” was all Chibs could say.  
  
He shoved his phone in his pocket, made sure he was armed, then shot out from under the awning to the garage.  
  
“HAP! WE GOTTA GO! NOW!” he screamed.  
  
Happy bolted out of the garage and ran to the bikes. He did not ask anything as he grabbed his helmet from his gas tank. Chibs started his bike and ripped out of the lot, leaving Happy to eat his dust. He could kick his own ass a million times over, and he swore if something had happened to her, he would never forgive himself.


	39. Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofread and edited.

Tig rode up to the gas station to find Callie’s Sportster on its side. No Callie. The owner of the convenience store ran out with her cell phone on her ear.  
  
“Tig!” she called.  
  
Tig pulled up beside her.  
  
“What the hell happened?” he asked.  
  
The woman covered the receiver.  
  
“This big black van pulled up and a guy grabbed her. I didn’t see faces or plates, but the van was a Ford. I’m calling the police now,” she said.  
  
Tig groaned. That was the last thing they needed.  
  
“Which way did the van head?” he asked.  
  
A man who had seen the entire thing from the safety of his car heard Tig’s question as he ran up to them.  
  
“South,” he replied.  
  
Tig gritted his teeth. They were taking her back to Huntington Beach.  
  
“Shit!” he hissed, “Is it okay if we leave the bike here?”  
  
The woman nodded.  
  
“Sure, sugar. I have a storage building out back. I’ll go get the keys,” she said.  
  
Tig nodded and parked his bike, then waved the man over.  
  
“Help me get this thing up,” he said.  
  
The guy nodded and followed Tig to the Sportster. Chibs and Happy ripped into the parking lot and Chibs’ tires squealed to a stop when he saw his Old Lady’s bike laying down, the owner no where to be seen.  
  
“SHIT!” he barked out, “Where the hell is she?”  
  
“Those bastards picked her up. Black Ford. Van. Headed South,” Tig grunted out as they hefted the bike onto its wheels.  
  
“Next stop is Stockton,” Happy said loudly over the engines.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“Call Álvarez. See if they can run it down,” he said.  
  
Happy nodded and pulled his phone out. They waited impatiently as Tig rode Callie’s bike around to the back. The kind owner promised she would keep it safe.  
  
“You guys bring that sweet girl home!” she called.  
  
The three nodded, and after the Mayans were in motion, they sped off towards Stockton, keeping an eye out for a black van along the way.  
  
***  
  
“Nice to see you again, Cal,” Jojo said.  
  
I snarled and spit at him, receiving a sharp slap to the face.  
  
“Goddammit, Jojo! Stop!”  
  
I looked up to see L. Hanes in the front seat, and the driver removed his mask to reveal his identity. Goddamn Shane Maddox.  
  
“What do you guys want with me?” I asked fearfully.  
  
L looked back at me.  
  
“You can’t run from us, Callie,” he said, “Dropping our Prospects. Tino.”  
  
“What happened to Tino?” I asked.  
  
Jojo slapped the other side of my face.  
  
“Jojo!” Shane barked.  
  
Jojo cowered.  
  
“You know damn well what happened to Tino!” L snapped.  
  
I gritted my teeth.  
  
“Well, I know damn well what you did to Zero, you son of a bitch!” I shouted.  
  
Jojo yanked me down as I pounced for L, ready to break his neck. Jojo pinned me down to the vans floor and pressed a knife to my neck.  
  
“Well, that’s what happens to little rats, Callie,” Shane said calmly, “Their necks get snapped in traps.”  
  
I gritted my teeth and fought against Jojo, trying to keep the blade from piercing my skin.  
  
“What’s the plan, bro?” L asked, “Tie her up and drown her?”  
  
“Nah. She needs to learn a lesson. You know that old warehouse we passed by? Jojo said it’d be perfect for a murder,” Shane replied.  
  
Jojo chuckled.  
  
“Like in the movies?” he said.  
  
L laughed. He glanced back at us.  
  
“Oughta let you two cage match,” he said.  
  
Jojo eyes lit up.  
  
“You’re gonna let me beat the shit out of this little cunt?” he asked.  
  
I felt my stomach roll, this time from fear. I wondered if the boys were looking for me. Surely they would know by now that I was gone. Tig knew where I was, and he was supposed to tell Chibs. Lord, please let them be looking for me.  
  
“Yeah. Rattle her around a little. I like my meat tenderized before I snack on it,” L said.  
  
I felt my blood run cold. Shit…  
  
The rest of the ride was quiet, and I felt the van rock around as it slowed and Shane pulled up to the murder warehouse. They parked, and Shane and L got out. I tensed, preparing myself for the worst. Jojo slung the door open and L grabbed me, locking a strong arm around my neck and towing me inside.  
The warehouse was an old pipe plant. There were holes in the roof, old machinery and other equipment rusting away and collecting dust. L dragged me deep within the warehouse until we made it to a hallway. There was a pile of glass on the floor, and he slung me, throwing me into the brown shards of what used to be a beer bottle. I threw my arms out automatically, and screamed when I felt the glass dig into my hands. The guys just laughed.  
  
“Stupid bitch,” Shane laughed.  
  
I gritted my teeth in pain and picked out what glass I could see. I’m sure there was more.  
  
“Tell me something, Callie,” L said.  
  
He walked up to me and yanked me to my feet. I watched him in disgust, staring into the eyes Zero’s killer. You piece of shit…  
  
“How much do these redneck motherfuckers mean to you?” he asked.  
  
I kept my mouth shut. My gun was still in its holster beneath my cut, and I was ready to blow a hole in L’s head. Even if it meant getting my own head blown off.  
  
“Nothing?” he asked, “Well, they must mean something. You’re wearing their Reaper.”  
  
Again, I kept my mouth closed.  
  
“Take her cut off,” Shane ordered.  
  
L grabbed me and roughly yanked the leather from my back. He quickly found my holster, ripped it from my shoulders, and chucked it down the hall, gun and all. I wished I had had a clear enough head to remember it in the van.  
Shane produced a switch blade from his pocket and held the cut in the air, dangling the neck from a finger. He stabbed the blade through the back, shredding the leather and tearing through my Reaper patch. It was not like I could not get a new one (if I made it), but I felt my heart clench as he ripped through the threads. That symbol meant family and home, and I took offense to the vandalism he was inflicting upon it.  
  
“You’re not gonna need it, Cal,” L said.  
  
I remained silent as I watched Shane carve away at the cut. He even ripped the pin out that Tig had given me and chucked it. I heard the piece of brass clink across the floor, but I knew I would never see it again, and that hurt worse than seeing the patch cut in half.  
  
“Now,” Shane said, tossing the shredded cut into a water puddle, “Let’s see if Callie is as vicious now without her big-girl vest.”  
  
I gritted my teeth. Shane pointed to Jojo.  
  
“Cage match,” he said.  
  
L and Shane backed away, and Jojo grinned at me. I felt my muscles tense. I did not need that cut, or even a gun to be vicious. I was still the killer they remembered, and had not forgotten how to disappear into the shadows.  
  
“Go!” Shane shouted.  
  
I bolted suddenly, and tore off down a hallway. Jojo shot after me.  
  
“Get her, Jojo!” L called.  
  
I ran down another corner and slipped into a dark alcove. I could hear Jojo stumbling around, and only had a short amount of time before I was caught. I looked around, trying to find anything I could use. I shifted around the dark corner, finding nothing until my knee bumped something, and the loud ding of a pipe gave me away. I froze, inwardly cursing, and could hear Jojo’s footsteps coming closer. I reached down in the floor and picked up the heavy piece of metal.  
  
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Jojo sang, “I recall this used to be your favorite game. Hide-and-seek.”  
  
And I recalled that I was quite good at it.  
  
“Come on already!” I heard Shane call from a distance.  
  
I held the pipe up like a baseball bat, ready to swing. Jojo was in the hallway now, and I could hear the sound of his steady footsteps. I readied myself, mentally going over when to strike and where to strike. Jojo was almost my height. If I did this right, I could crack the pipe over his head. It was times like this I wished I had learned to play baseball.  
Jojo was just around the corner when I swung out, hitting him in the head and taking him off guard. He screamed and fell against the wall. Dazed, I grabbed his knife, pinned him to the ground, and pressed it into his neck. Blood began to drip down the stainless steel blade.  
  
“Found you!” I hissed.  
  
Jojo stared up at me in fear. I drove the blade into his neck, having no remorse for killing a man I had once considered my brother. That was gone.  
Jojo held his neck and gurgled as his life source poured out of him. I yanked the blade back up at an angle. Jojo was dead before he completely collapsed. I clutched the blade and walked down the hall. I knew there was another hallway I had not accessed, and planned to turn down it and run. Unfortunately, L’s patience had run out, and he shot out of nowhere and slammed me against the cinderblock wall, a gun pressed to my head.  
  
“Drop it, cunt!” he growled.  
  
I obeyed and let the dagger fall. Shane appeared and glanced down the hall to see Jojo’s lifeless body.  
  
“What should we do with her?” L asked.  
  
Shane did not reply. He took the dagger and swiped it across my right bicep. I cried out as the blade severed my skin. L backhanded me, the force throwing me to the floor. He slammed fists into me, and I was helpless against him. I kicked and screamed, scratched and bucked, but it was no use. He beat me black and blue, and with one swift kick, Shane’s boot collided with my stomach. Pain like nothing I had felt before ripped through me, and I felt like I could not scream loud enough. I could feel blood dripping from my scalp and arm, and just knew something had to be broken, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my stomach. I nearly passed out from the initial onslaught, and could not comprehend much afterwards except for a warm, stickiness and the distant sound of motorcycles.  
  
***  
  
“There,” Marcus Álvarez said, pointing to the black van parked outside of an old pipe warehouse in downtown Stockton.  
  
Chibs and Tig followed his finger.  
  
“Not sure if it’s the van you’re looking for, but this warehouse has been abandoned for 20 years. No reason for anyone to be here,” he explained.  
  
Chibs nodded and reached for his gun.  
  
“Happy, go with them and park on the other side. Block any escape routes. Tig and I are goin’ in,” he said.  
  
Happy nodded and followed Álvarez around the property. Chibs and Tig ran up to the van, confirmed it was empty before they slipped inside. They could hear the echoing of voices, and knew they had to be in the right place.  
  
“That way, brother!” Tig hissed, pointed to an entry to a hall.  
  
Chibs ran towards it, Tig following closely behind. The ran through puddles and dark hallways, having to backtrack only once as they tried to follow the echoes. Once close enough, they could hear more clearly.  
  
“Shit!” one man said, “I heard something.”  
  
“Are you gonna stick your dick in her or not? I didn’t hear anything!”  
  
Tig’s fury caught fire, and Chibs saw nothing but red. They bolted down a hallway and up a flight of stairs. They could hear the men cursing. When they reached the top, one man turned and cocked his gun, but the other bolted. Chibs saw a figure in a heap, and he recognized the whimpers as those of his Old Lady.  
  
“Drop the goddamn gun, you fucking prick!” he shouted.  
  
Shane held his hands up and dropped his gun. Without warning, Happy flew by them and shot off after L.  
  
“I’ve got ‘em, boss,” he said breathlessly.  
  
“Where’s the other one?” Tig asked, gun pointed at the former VII President as he walked around, observing the destroyed cut and the blood on the floor.  
  
“Get Callie,” Chibs said.  
  
Tig lowered his gun, kicking Shane’s down the hall and lowering himself over Callie’s shivering, bleeding body.  
  
“Ya know who I am?” Chibs asked in a low, dangerous voice.  
  
“Let me guess. Superman? Come to save the day?” Shane asked cockily.  
  
Chibs cocked his gun and walked forward.  
  
“On your knees, ya piece of shit,” he growled.  
  
Shane rolled his eyes, holding his hands up and doing as he was told. Chibs pressed his gun between Shane’s eyes.  
  
“You’re lookin’ at a real MC President. One who treats their members like family, and not criminals. One who would never shut one of their own out. One who would never kill a brother who never deserved it!” he snarled.  
  
“So she did rat to you guys!” Shane said.  
  
“She had every right to! Ya made a big mistake. Your men killed my brothers. You’ve stepped into the wrong territory. Ya laid your filthy hands on _my_ Old Lady, ya rat bastard! You’re not stepping away from this alive!”  
  
“Yeah, and I had every right to pound her gaping pussy!” he snapped.  
  
Chibs could not hold back anymore, and pulled the trigger. Blood splattered and brain matter showered to the floor as Shane Maddox dropped dead.  
Tig cringed and looked back down at Callie.  
  
“Baby girl, can you hear me? Callie,” he said softly.  
  
He found blood seeping from a laceration to her bicep, and her hands were covered in blood as she clutched her stomach, shaking and crying so hard, she had trouble breathing. He tried to pry her hands away, but she held herself in a death grip. Tig examined the rest of her, trying to find anything that Chibs could not fix. When he saw what he saw next, his heart stopped.  
  
“Oh man. Oh man,” he whispered.  
  
Blood was seeping down Callie’s legs in alarming amounts.  
  
“Shit,” Tig hissed, “Chibs!”  
  
Chibs looked up from his kill, the red fading with the dissipating fury. Shane was forgotten when he saw Callie, and ran to her.  
  
“Brother, look,” Tig said fearfully.  
  
Chibs dropped on his knees beside her and Tig pointed to the blood. Chibs found it hard to swallow.  
  
“Jesus. Call an ambulance!” he said.  
  
Tig nodded and climbed to his feet, dialing 911. Chibs scooted up and reached down to cup Callie’s face. She was barely conscious.  
  
“I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’m right here,” he said.  
  
His words were just echoes of sound to her.  
  
***  
  
Happy took a shot in the leg, the bullet just grazing his ankle. He wrapped it with a t-shirt and kept going. Unfortunately, he was unable to catch L.  
Chibs and Tig sped behind the ambulance, following it back to St. Thomas where Callie could be checked in and patched up. Chibs had trouble riding, and almost had to stop, he was shaking so badly. He had never been more terrified. All of that blood. It could have only meant one of two things. He just did not know which.  
At the hospital, he paced, then sat, and paced some more before Tig forced him to sit down.  
  
“What if those bastards raped her?” he hissed to Tig.  
  
Tig shook his head.  
  
“We won’t know until the doctor returns,” he said.  
  
Chibs took a deep breath to calm himself. The rest of the club showed up to comfort them, and worriedly waited for news about their sister. Venus arrived shortly after the club, and seated herself beside Chibs.  
  
“She’s strong, sweetheart. She’ll make it,” she assured him.  
  
They settled in silence, the noises of telephones, intercoms, and feet filling their ears. Chibs couldn’t hear anything except his pounding heart.  
  
“I’m sorry, brother,” Tig whispered.  
  
Chibs was rubbing his face when he looked up at his VP. Tig was looking down in shame.  
  
“I should’ve been with her. I just let her go,” he said.  
  
Tears welled up in Tig’s eyes.  
  
“I thought she would be fine and I just let her go.”  
  
Chibs sighed and reached over to hold his best friend’s hand.  
  
“We didn’t know, brother. Now we do,” he said.  
  
Tig nodded.  
  
“Why didn’t Milo call?” he asked.  
  
Chibs sighed.  
  
“He did. Just as you left,” he replied.  
  
Tig punched his leg.  
  
“Baby, take it easy,” Venus said.  
  
“I don’t trust those fuckers!” he hissed to her.  
  
“We have to, Tiggy,” Chibs said.  
  
“What if they set this up?” Tig asked.  
  
Chibs shook his head.  
  
“I trust them. Getting the intel too late was out of their hands,” he said.  
  
Tig rolled his eyes.  
  
“Mr. Telford?”  
  
The club and Venus looked up to see a nurse in pea green scrubs. Venus and Tig shot Chibs a worried look. Chibs stood up and walked over to her, his heart racing so fast, he feared he would pass out. The nurse smiled sympathetically and led him around the corner.  
  
“What is your relationship with Miss Shepherd?” she asked.  
  
“She’s my—“ Chibs almost said Old Lady, but he realized that meant nothing to the hospital staff, “girlfriend.”  
  
He felt awkward saying it. “Old Lady” sounded so much more admirable and respectful. Not only that, but he had not said “girlfriend” since his days of dating Fiona.  
  
“Okay. Does she have any family?” the nurse asked.  
  
Chibs shook his head.  
  
“Just me,” he replied, “Is she okay? What happened?”  
  
The nurse waved him off.  
  
“She’s doing fine right now. She’s resting. She has some very severe bruises. Deep cut to the upper right arm. The doctor has cleaned it and stitched it up. It should heal in about two weeks. She had a lot of little cuts on her hands. They were full of glass, but we have them cleaned up and wrapped. We couldn’t put stitches in them, but if she keeps them bandaged and cleaned, they’ll heal just fine.”  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“What…what about all of the blood?” he asked quietly, “Was…was she raped?”  
  
The nurse closed her eyes and shook her head.  
  
“No, sir. There is no evidence of that,” the nurse looked down, “Were you aware that she was pregnant?”  
  
Chibs shoulders dropped and his mouth went dry.  
  
“What?” he whispered.  
  
The nurse nodded.  
  
“Miss Shepherd miscarried. Her assailants must have kicked her in the stomach. She has bruising throughout her lower abdomen. The trauma triggered a miscarriage. That was what the blood was from,” she explained.  
  
Chibs could not hold back the tears that welled up.  
  
“We’ve done thorough examinations and there is no extensive damage. After she heals fully and has a complete cycle, you may try again if you wish,” she said.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“Can I see her?” he asked.  
  
The nurse shook her head.  
  
“Not yet, but I’ll check in and get some more information for you,” she said.  
  
Chibs nodded and thanked her. She left him and walked back down the hall. Chibs leaned against the wall and bit his tongue, trying desperately not to break down. He should have known, yet, he still could not believe it. She had been showing signs for the past week and a half. He should have noticed. The cramps, fatigue, weird food aversions. Hell, he had known Fiona was pregnant with Kerrianne before she did. He just knew that shit, yet he overlooked it with Callie. He cursed himself for being so stupid. Stupid for not noticing, and stupid for not being more careful. He knew now when it happened. That quickie on the Challenger. That was all it took. Yet, he would never had regretted it. She had been pregnant with his baby for a month, and those bastards had killed it. Beat it out of her. Almost killed her. And the blood…  
Chibs felt his stomach roll, and he took off down the hall, skidding around the waiting area and down to the bathroom.  
  
“Shit!” he heard Tig exclaim.  
  
Chibs slammed through the men’s bathroom door, fell over a sink, and proceeding to empty his stomach into it.  
  
“Brother! Brother, easy,” he heard Tig say.  
  
He felt a hand on his back and two more pull his hair back.  
  
“Christ, Chibby,” Tig sighed, “Quinn, go get someone to get a janitor. Say you found a sink full of puke. No one needs to see this.”  
  
Quinn agreed and left them. Tig turned the faucet on to help wash some of the sick down the drain.  
  
“What the hell happened, Chibs? What did that nurse tell you?” he asked.  
  
Chibs spit into the sink and raised his head, reaching for some paper towels to dampen them and wipe his mouth and facial hair clean.  
  
“Is baby girl okay?” Tig asked worriedly.  
  
Chibs nodded, sniffing and blinking the tears from his eyes. He tossed the soiled towels and grabbed another to wipe his nose.  
  
“She’s fine. Tiggy…”  
  
Tig watched his brother worriedly as he tossed the towel. Tears brimmed the younger man’s eyes and brown flickered up to meet blue.  
  
“She was pregnant, Tiggy. Those fuckers must have kicked her. Caused a miscarriage,” he said.  
  
Tig’s eyes widened.  
  
“Jesus Christ! Shit, brother. I’m so sorry. You didn’t know?”  
  
Chibs sadly shook his head. Tig felt his heart break in a way it had not shattered since Fawn told him that she hated him. He could see it in his brother’s eyes. It had not mattered to Chibs that they were not married, or how young their relationship was. He wanted that baby, and there was not a doubt in his mind that Chibs would love it with every fiber of his being. He knew once they decided to raise a family, it would be huge. This was not the plan. Those bastards had broken his daughter, his brother’s Old Lady, killed a life that was never given a chance. He was sure this was not the birthday Chibs had in mind for her.  
Chibs let out a shaky breath. Tig walked up to him and enveloped his brother in a hug. Chibs clung tightly to Tig, fighting back tears.  
  
“It’s okay, Chibby. We’re gonna make this right, okay?”  
  
Chibs nodded. Oh, he would make this right. They had touched what was not theirs. He would end this for good.  
Chibs and Tig left the bathroom before the janitor could come clean and returned to the waiting area. As Chibs walked in, his nightmare suddenly became worse when he saw Sheriff Althea Jarry standing nearby with her arms crossed.  
  
“Filip, we need to talk,” she said strictly.  
  
“Oh, like I wanna fuckin’ talk to ya right now!” he snapped, causing anyone in hearing range to stop and stare.  
  
“Chibs, not the time, brother,” Tig said.  
  
His words went ignored.  
  
“I warned you about starting a war. There are two DB’s in a Stockton warehouse because of your club,” she hissed.  
  
“Fuck off, Althea! Get out of my goddamn face! I don’t need this shit from ya right now!” Chibs shouted.  
  
Chibs marched off, Happy catching him and attempting to comfort him. Althea looked appalled. The nurse from before returned.  
  
“Mr. Telford?” she asked.  
  
Chibs looked up at her.  
  
“Miss Shepherd’s awake,” she said softly.  
  
Chibs nodded and followed her, shooting a dangerous glare at Althea. She visibly gulped before he disappeared with the nurse.  
  
“Jarry,” Tig said.  
  
Althea looked to the VP. He waved her over and led her away from the club.  
  
“Look, we know you’re trying to do your job, but right now, we’re dealing with our sister being almost beaten to death by the same motherfuckers who killed Juice and RJ. Now, if you need to talk to us, come to me. Don’t even try to talk to Chibs. His Old Lady is fighting for her life and he’s sitting with the weight of a dead child on his shoulders. It’s best you stay out of it.”  
  
Althea’s face fell.  
  
“She was pregnant?” she asked.  
  
Tig nodded.  
  
“She may not be blood, but she’s my daughter, and I just lost a grandchild. You have to understand how hard this is,” he said.  
  
Althea nodded.  
  
“Jesus. Yeah, of course,” she said, “Listen, um. I’ll give you guys a week, but I will need information.”  
  
Tig nodded.  
  
“You’ll get it. Just not now,” he said.  
  
Althea nodded, then gave her condolences and apologies before leaving. Tig walked back to the waiting area and took a deep breath, preparing himself to break the news to his brothers, and Old Lady.  
  
***  
  
I opened my eyes and looked around. The room was light brightly in white, and I could smell the God-awful smell of disinfectant. I looked around to see vertical blinds and painted white walls. I looked down to see my body in a hospital gown, an IV in my wrist, and my hands wrapped in bandages. I took a deep breath and looked to see a heart monitor and the drip. I could not feel any pain, but I knew I was probably heavily sedated.  
A knock came from the door, and a nurse poked her head in.  
  
“Oh, good. You’re awake,” she said.  
  
I blinked slowly and watched as she walked in, checking the machines I was attached to.  
  
“My name is Janice. I’m going to be your nurse. Do you know why you’re here, Miss Shepherd?” she asked.  
  
I swallowed.  
  
“Callie,” I whispered.  
  
I hated being called Miss or ma’am.  
  
“Callie,” she corrected, “Do you know what happened?”  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Got the shit beat out of me,” I whispered.  
  
Janice smiled.  
  
“Yes. You have multiple lacerations and bruising, but luckily, no broken bones. All will heal in a couple of weeks. You’re very lucky. You have a lot of people out there who love you,” she said.  
  
I smiled. I patched into a big family.  
  
“The club’s here?” I asked.  
  
She nodded.  
  
“Now, Callie, hun, did you realize you were pregnant?” she asked.  
  
I jumped and the heart monitor’s beeping sped up.  
  
“Excuse me?” I asked.  
  
She nodded.  
  
“Mr. Trager, I believe, said he found blood between your legs. What happened is that the trauma to your abdomen caused a miscarriage.”  
  
I felt my breathing shallow.  
  
“God,” I breathed out, “How far was I?”  
  
“Five weeks,” she replied.  
  
I looked away from her.  
  
“Once you’re fully healed and go through a full cycle, you and your boyfriend can try again,” she said.  
  
I shook my head. I could not believe this.  
  
“Can I see him? Where is he?” I asked.  
  
“He’s waiting. I can go get him for you,” she said.  
  
“Please,” I whispered.  
  
She nodded and left me alone. I let my head fall back on the flimsy pillow.  
  
Pregnant. I had been five weeks along and had no idea. I felt so incredibly stupid. I was not on birth control, and now that I thought about it, I realized how foolish I was when Chibs and I messed around at The Quiet Spot. I remembered no condom.  
  
“You stupid bitch,” I whispered to myself.  
  
This was my fault.  
  
Chibs opened the door and peered in.  
  
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said softly.  
  
I stared at him and felt my chest knot up and tears come to my eyes. Had this never happened, we would have had a baby, and as surreal as that was for me, looking at Chibs now, seeing how red his eyes were, I knew I had fucked up.  
  
“Did she tell you?” I asked.  
  
He nodded.  
  
“Did you know?” he asked.  
  
I shook my head. He walked to the side of the bed and took my wrapped hand in his. I curled my fingers around his hand and broke down. Chibs sat on the edge of the bed and scooped me up gently.  
  
“This is my fault,” I whimpered.  
  
“No, love. This is not on you,” he said.  
  
I pulled away from him and covered my mouth, hanging my head.  
  
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.  
  
“Callie, my love. This is not your fault. This is mine. I should have gone with ya. I should have wrapped my shit. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be in this pain. This is on me. I broke my promise to ya.”  
  
I looked up at him.  
  
“You can’t help that, Filip. There’s some things that you won’t be able to save me from. That’s just how it is.”  
  
Chibs nodded. He looked up at me and kissed me softly. I felt tears fall down my cheeks.  
  
“Would ya have wanted it?” he whispered.  
  
I took a deep breath and thought about it for a moment. My mind raced back to the day we baby-sat Thomas, and ever since that day, I had imagined having a baby with him. How incredible he would be with our child. I didn't think I had any mom in me until now, the beginnings of maternal instincts developing with the child I had not known I was carrying.  
  
“Of course,” I whispered.  
  
I took his face in my hands, making him look me in the eye. Chibs caressed my face and tried to soothe me.  
  
“Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’s okay,” he said.  
  
He pulled me into a hug and I bawled into his shoulder.  
  
“I’m so sorry, baby,” I whispered.  
  
“Shh, darlin’. You don’t need to apologize. It’s not your fault. I s’pose it’s no one’s fault,” he said, “But we’re gonna make this right. I promise ya.”  
  
I nodded. Chibs laid me down, then climbed in the bed with me and scooped me up. He held me tightly as I cried silently into his shoulder.  
  
“It’s gonna be okay,” he said softly, “I got ya.”  
  
I saw tears streaming down his cheeks. I wrapped my arms around his neck and nuzzled my face against his cheek. He kissed my cheek, and for the rest of the night, we stayed like that. I had no doubts that we would make it through this, but at the moment, I felt completely helpless. I didn’t want to see anyone else. I just wanted my Old Man, and I never wanted to leave the safety of his arms again.


	40. Black Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofread and edited.

A soft thud woke me up. I opened my eyes. It took me a moment to focus, but when the room became clear, I saw Chibs leaning over to the table that went over the foot of the bed, setting a clear glass vase full of roses on it. I smiled as I watched him straighten the card in its stand.  
  
“Hey, baby,” I said, my voice weak and hoarse.  
  
Chibs looked down at me and smiled.  
  
“Good mornin’, sweetheart,” he said.  
  
I noticed he had changed clothes, and I had assumed he had made a quick run home. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt, black, faded jeans, and his cut. He looked tired, and yet, looked handsome as always. I’m sure I looked like a shriveled pile of shit. At least, that is how I felt.  
  
“How are ya feelin’?” he asked.  
  
He walked alongside the bed, letting his fingers run up my leg through the blankets.  
  
“Sore,” I replied.  
  
I felt my chest knot up, and I looked away from him. Yesterday came crashing down on me, remembering everything in vivid detail. The blood, the pain, the nastiness in the boys I had grown up with. I knew that I was safe, for now, but everything felt backwards. Wrong. In feeling like shit, I tried to let my mind drift to happy places. Riding. Being with my brothers. Spending beautiful moments with Chibs. So far, he was the only thing that did not make me want to cry, but when I saw his cut, I felt the tears return.  
  
“Did ya get much sleep?” he asked, slipping in beside me.  
  
I sighed and shook my head.  
  
“Not really. I tried,” I replied quietly.  
  
He put an arm around my shoulders and held me against his side.  
  
“Well, you’ll sleep better in our bed. Doc says you’ll be discharged today if you stay on the mend,” he said.  
  
I just nodded. He rested his cheek on my head and laced his fingers with mine. I closed my eyes tightly.  
  
“Tiggy and Venus have been askin’ about ya. They wanna see ya,” he said.  
  
I opened my eyes, feeling them burn like almighty hell. My immediate reaction made tears form. I did not want to see them. I did not want to see anyone. They would remind me of what I loved. The bikes. The Patch. All of sudden, none of it seemed important to me, and that scared me. The VII had soiled it. I had gotten a true taste of how dangerous this life was, and even though I had been through some tough shit with both clubs, being the victim had shaken me. I had sworn I would never let this life break me, yet here I was, scared of the thought of what I had fallen in love with. What had saved me. And then there was the miscarriage…  
I squeezed my eyes shut and buried my face against his arm. Tears seeped out and I let out a shaky cry. Alarmed, Chibs reacted worriedly.  
  
“Whoa. Hey, now. Hey. What’s wrong, love? What’s with the tears?” he asked, “Are ya in that much pain?”  
  
I shook my head. Not pain any kind of pill could fix.  
  
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he asked.  
  
His soft tone just made me cry harder.  
  
“They destroyed my cut,” I said between sobs.  
  
Chibs pulled back to look at me and wiped the tears from my cheeks.  
  
“We can get ya another one,” he said.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
“Not that pin, though. It was Tig’s,” I said.  
  
Chibs sighed and cradled the back of my head.  
  
“I’m sure he’ll understand, love,” he said.  
  
I sniffed.  
  
“I just…I feel like I’ve failed you guys,” I said, “How stupid do you have to be to take off when you’re wanted dead? I’m supposed to be just as strong as you guys, and here I am being the fucking damsel. Getting kidnapped.”  
  
“Hey! You know how many times all of us have been kidnapped?” he asked.  
  
I looked up at him in surprise.  
  
“I mean, I was. Tig was once or twice. Hap, too. We all have been there, sweetheart. It happens. The thing is we all come to each other’s rescue. Don’t feel like you’ve failed us. Hell, I saw what ya did to Jojo.”  
  
I smiled and sniffed.  
  
“You’re not disappointed in me?” I asked.  
  
“Callie, I’m proud as hell of ya. Is that what all this is about?” he asked.  
  
I shrugged.  
  
“Is it over?” I asked, “Are they dead?”  
  
He sighed.  
  
“Shane's taken care of, but L escaped. Happy took a shot in the leg tryin’ to get him, but he’s okay. Stitched him up this mornin’,” he said.  
  
I nodded. Chibs leaned down to me.  
  
“We’re gonna get ‘em. Ya hear me?”  
  
I nodded again.  
  
“I know. I just…I don’t even know why I’m crying,” I said.  
  
Chibs brushed my hair out my face.  
  
“Let it out. You’ve had a hard few hours,” he said.  
  
I sniffed.  
  
“I don’t know how to even begin to bounce back from this,” I said.  
  
Chibs put his finger under my chin, making me look up at him.  
  
“That’s okay. Ya wanna know why?” he asked.  
  
I swallowed thickly.  
  
“Why?” I asked.  
  
He smiled softly.  
  
“Because no matter how weak you feel, I’m gonna be right here, and I’m gonna hold your hand and walk this with ya. You’re not alone.”  
  
Tears welled up spilled before I could stop them.  
  
“You’re my best friend, and my beautiful Old Lady, and we’re gonna make it. It’ll take time, but we can make it. Ya got the whole family behind ya, my sweet girl. And ya know what? One day, some time down the road, we can try it on purpose. Because, I know ya have a tremendous amount of love to give, and I know in my heart you’ll be an amazing mother.”  
  
I let my forehead fall against his shoulder, his kind words making me bawl my eyes out.  
  
“And we can reschedule your birthday party,” he finished.  
  
I just nodded and laid my head on his shoulder, hugging his arm. I raised my eyes to the roses at the end of the bed.  
  
“Who are those from?” I asked.  
  
He squeezed my hand.  
  
“Me.”  
  
***  
  
Chibs sat quietly in one of the chairs beside Callie’s bed, eyes glued to the small flatscreen mounted in the corner of the room, his mind miles away from the old 90’s sitcom he had muted. Callie dozed in and out, and had finally fallen asleep. The nurse had stopped by to check on her, and informed him that the doctor would be in soon to examine Callie one more time before they would discharge her. Chibs just nodded. He was ready to leave. Ready to get his Old Lady to the safety of their home.  
Within a few hours, the room was loaded with get well balloons and bouquets. All from the club. There was even a card from the Mayans, and Sticky, President of the Grim Bastards, had seen to it that a giant teddy bear was delivered. There were flowers and balloons from Brooke and Rat, the most extravagant and colorful bouquet from Venus and Tig that Chibs had ever seen, and he had been informed that the Crow Eaters were preparing a large get well card at the clubhouse. He had asked Tig to make sure the flowers and balloons were brought to the clubhouse, and he would pack up the letters and the giant bear, grateful he had thought to bring the car.  
Tig and Rat had picked up Callie’s Sportster from the gas station, thanking the lady for helping them and taking it back to TM so they could polish it and keep it safe until its owner returned. The rest of the club returned to TM early that morning when Chibs decided to take Happy back, stitch his leg before it could become infected, then quickly run home to shower and change before driving the Challenger back to St. Thomas. The only other club member who had refused to return home until he could speak to Callie, was Tig. He asked every chance he got, but Callie had made it clear she did not want to see anyone but Chibs. She would not even let the nurse touch her. This had alarmed Chibs. The nurse had assured him she was still in shock and was traumatized by the assault, and that it would wear off. Chibs did not doubt her, but he hated seeing her flinch, scared shitless that someone was going to hurt her. Then, when she realized she was not in any danger, she would break down. Her spirit had been shattered. It broke his heart.  
A knock on the door broke Chibs out of his thoughts. He looked up to see none other than Althea timidly peer in. He tensed up and his spine straightened. Althea held her hands up in surrender.  
  
“I’m not here to burden you right now. I just wanted to drop this off,” she said.  
  
Chibs waited silently as the sheriff walked inside with a large Ziploc bag, a paper and a piece of brass inside it.  
  
“They were getting ready to take this to evidence, but I thought Callie might want it back,” she said quietly, as to not wake his Old Lady.  
  
Chibs took the bag and saw Tig’s old Reaper pin inside. He let out a sigh of relief.  
  
“Jesus,” he breathed out, “Thank-you.”  
  
Althea smiled and nodded before leaving, not wanted to overstep any more lines. When the door was closed, Chibs stood and opened the bag. He slipped the pin out of the bag, then took a tissue and wiped the dirt and grime from it until it shined. He then tossed the tissue and took Callie’s hand.  
  
***  
  
“Callie, sweetheart.”  
  
My eyes fluttered open and I looked around, momentarily forgetting where I was. I looked around to see flowers and balloons and…was that a giant bear?  
  
“God. It looks like a fucking funeral home in here,” I said bitterly.  
  
Chibs approached my side and smiled, fiddling with something between his fingers.  
  
“Ya got a lotta people that love ya, darlin’,” he said, then leaned down and kissed me, “Look what I got.”  
  
He held his palm out, a small gold pin rolling to the center. When I realized what it was, my heart lept into my throat.  
  
“Oh my God! Where’d you find this?” I asked, taking the pin and searching his eyes.  
  
“Jarry found it. They were gonna hold it in evidence, but she thought ya outta keep it,” he said.  
  
I looked down at the little pin I thought I would never see again and closed my hand around it.  
  
“Did you thank her?” I asked.  
  
He nodded and rubbed the top of my head.  
  
“Aye,” he replied, sitting on the edge of the bed.  
  
I clutched the pin and reached over to hold his hands. He smiled warmly.  
  
“I know ya said ya didn’t wanna see anyone, but Tiggy’s really worried about ya. He wants to see ya,” he said.  
  
I just nodded.  
  
“Is he here?” I asked.  
  
He nodded.  
  
“Only one who stayed. He ran to get your bike and took it to TM, then came right back. He’s worried about his little one,” he replied.  
  
I sighed through my chest tightened. I knew he had to be worried.  
  
“Go get him,” I said.  
  
Chibs nodded and patted my thigh before standing and leaving. I looked back down at the pin. What were the chances of anyone finding this little thing? Someone must have had a good eye, but I had a feeling Althea had found it. As familiar as she was with the Reaper, she had probably been looking for it. Regardless, I made a mental note to find a way to thank her. Bitch or not, maybe it was time to pay her back for that dental bill.  
The door opened again, and a very exhausted Alexander Trager walked in. Chibs poked his head in.  
  
“I’m gonna go down and get coffee,” he said.  
  
I nodded, and he shut the door. Tig looked at the door, then back at me and smiled sympathetically.  
  
“Hi, sweetheart,” he said.  
  
I smiled at him as he walked up to me and kissed my forehead. As soon as he was near me, all of that desire to push everyone away disappeared. Before he could fully seat himself on the edge of the bed, I launched myself at him (as quickly as my injuries would let me), and threw my arms around his neck. He held me in a death grip.  
  
“I was so worried about you, baby girl,” he said softly in my ear.  
  
He pulled back and examined my face. I had seen what I looked like after my last adventure to the bathroom. The side of my nose was black and blue. There was a cut just along my hairline, above the old scar from the wreck, and both cheeks were swollen, one more than the other. My arms were littered with bruises, and there was a nasty one on my collarbone. I had yet to see the worst of it, though.  
Tig very gently stroked my cheek and grimaced.  
  
“I am so, so sorry, Callie. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have let you go alone,” he said.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
“We could spend all day pointing fingers, Tiggy. Don’t worry about it. It’s over now,” I said quietly.  
  
Tig nodded sadly.  
  
“Um, I’m really sorry about…um…Chibby told me,” he said, struggling to find the words.  
  
I knew what he was trying to say, though. I nodded sadly and looked down at my lap.  
  
“We have no business bringing kids into the world. Not right now. I guess in some twisted way, this was meant to happen,” I said.  
  
Tig ruffled my hair.  
  
“Don’t say it like that, baby girl. You know you two would have been perfect parents. And hey. Venus and I love baby-sitting,” he said.  
  
I smiled at that.  
  
“You don’t seem like one for that kind of patience, Tigger.”  
  
Tig smiled.  
  
“I can play the role of Grandpa for a day,” he said.  
  
I snorted.  
  
“Oh, and I’m sure Vee would love to be called ‘Grandma,’” I retorted.  
  
Tig laughed.  
  
“She’ll settle for some modern, hip grandma bullshit. ‘Gigi’ or something as equally ridiculous.”  
  
I laughed at that. We settled in silence, Tig taking my bandaged hands.  
  
“Guess we know now how many times it takes Chibs. Once,” he said jokingly.  
  
I smiled and lightly shoved him.  
  
“Shut up,” I said tiredly.  
  
Tig chuckled and kissed my forehead.  
  
“I’m just so glad you’re okay,” he said.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Yeah. Nothing feels right, though. I just feel…drained,” I replied.  
  
“They have you on a lot of painkillers, sweetheart,” he said.  
  
“I don’t think it’s that, though. That whole time in the ambulance, and when they were patching me up, I tried to just go to a happy place, and none of it…felt happy. It was weird. I just…everything I loved suddenly wasn’t as welcoming anymore.”  
  
Tig rested his elbow on my shoulder and wrapped his hand around the back of my neck, rubbing lightly. He looked down to see my fiddling with the pin and gently pulled it from my fingers.  
  
“I thought this got ripped off?” he asked.  
  
I kept my head lowered, but peeked up at him through my eyebrows.  
  
“Jarry found it,” I replied.  
  
He sighed and looked up at me, tightly clutching the pin.  
  
“Everything is gonna work out, baby girl. This proves it. You are meant to be here. Meant to be with us. No jealous little prick can break you that easily. They fucked up and they know it. I know that right now it feels hopeless, but it’s gonna work out. You’ve got me and Venus, and your brothers, and you know you’ll never get rid of Chibs.”  
  
I smiled at that. Tig placed the pin in my palm and closed my fingers around it.  
  
“You’ll rise right back up from this. You’ll see,” he said.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Thank-you, Tiggy,” I whispered.  
  
Tig smiled and kissed my cheek.  
  
There was a knock at the door, and the doctor entered, Chibs following behind. Tig patted my hand.  
  
“I’ll see you later, darlin’.”  
  
“Ride safe,” I said, hugging him.  
  
He let me go and said goodbye to Chibs before leaving. I was ready to get the hell out of here as well, and let the doctor examine me so I could be discharged and go home.  
  
***  
  
That night, Chibs drew me a hot bath so I could soak my bruises and stiff muscles. He had me sit on the edge of the tub while it filled so he could check the cut on my forehead and the stitches on my arm. He cleaned the cut on my forehead, then unwrapped my hands and cleaned the cuts there. I had told him I could do it, but he insisted. I knew he felt a little helpless, as the drugs had worn off and everything had become a chore for me. Walking, breathing, sleeping. The doctor had prescribed some painkillers, but I refused to take them until bedtime. They turned me into a zombie, and I would rather be able to function and power through it. No matter how much pain I was in, whether it be muscle pain, cramps, or a migraine, I had never liked taking painkillers.  
When Chibs left me to bathe, I undressed carefully, tossing my clothes haphazardly to the floor. I then climbed over the wall of the corner tub and sunk down into the warm water. It felt amazing, and stung a little in places, but the bath was heavenly. I slipped to the bottom of the tub, keeping my arms out of the water to protect my bandages. I kept my hands unwrapped. Chibs had bought some more bandages when he picked up my prescription, and would wrap them back up later. Just had to keep my stitches dry.  
I popped my toes and cracked my neck as I relaxed into the water, I looked at the cuts on my palms. They were not too bad, and I’m sure would fade quickly. Scars did not bother me anyway. They fade. I looked down at myself, seeing my crow. It had not been damaged. I could feel some soreness, but I could not see it. I had no idea what my back looked like, but I did not think my club ink was harmed at all. It seemed almost everything club related had survived the attack. No one was truly immortal, but it made me realize how hard it was to destroy anything with a Reaper. For the first time in hours, I felt as proud as Chibs claimed to be of me. I was proud to wear that Reaper. Bear the ink. We may not be immortal, but it would take an army to kill us. We did not go down without a fight.  
I looked back down at myself and noticed another black mass spread across my lower stomach. I jumped, thinking it was a shadow when I realized it was the place that Shane had kicked me. L had repeatedly punched me there was well. I gasped and reached my left hand down into the water, leaving my bandaged arm clear. I ran my hand across the swollen skin and my breath caught. I could still feel the unbearable pain. The warmth of the blood that flowed as a result. I bit my lip and cupped the bruise.  
  
“I’m sorry, little one,” I whispered, choking on my words as fresh tears brimmed my eyes.  
  
I felt wretched. Absolutely wretched for how I had not paid attention. Let myself be distracted by lust. Get Chibs so worked up, he was not thinking. I cursed myself for not being on the pill. I had stopped taking it about a year after Zero passed away, as I thought it was part of the reason for my severe depression, and the reason why I felt like I should self-harm. I had blamed everything but myself for that. After years of being alone, I never thought to get back on it, and with Chibs using protection, my idiot mind never thought twice about going to St. Thomas and getting a prescription. I most definitely would be now. It was not Tig’s fault that I had been picked up, nor was it anyone’s. It was not Chibs’ fault that this had happened. It was my fault. All of it was mine, and if I could not fucking take care of myself, how could they?  
I sucked in a sob, the sound echoing off the walls. I curled in on myself, tucking my legs underneath me and laying my forehead on my dry arm, holding my stomach with the other. I let it all out in the privacy of the bathroom, ugly sounds coming from my mouth. Every sob caused a hiccup, which made pain shoot through me. I did not care. I cried until my throat hurt and I thought I might puke. I tapped myself out of tears, and when I finally tired myself out. I straightened out and sat still, feeling drained. I had had enough. Enough of the crying and the pain. It was time to heal now.  
I reached over to the stool Chibs had pushed against the tub where my bath pouf and the bottle of honeysuckle body wash Chibs loved so much lay on top of my sleepwear. I picked up the pouf and bottle, squirted a dollop on transparent yellow gel onto the red mesh, and let the scent fill my nose and mix with the residual woodsy aroma of Chibs’ shampoo.  
  
***  
  
Chibs picked up a sock he had dropped and added it to the small pile of laundry in his hands. He had busied himself with house chores, getting caught up on laundry and picked up bits of trash before tying up the bags and setting them outside the side entrance to be taken down in the morning. He finished a load of his heavier clothing, then started a load for Callie before leaving the utility room. He walked back down the hall and stopped at the bathroom to knock and check in, but his knock fell short when he heard the heart-wrenching cry of his Old Lady. He was worried at first, thinking she had hurt herself, but he knew these were not cries of physical pain. These were the cries of a grieving woman, and he felt tears brim his own eyes. He let his hand press to the door and his forehead fall silently against the wood. He remained that way until her cries died away. He was right there, just beyond the door, and that is how he would always be when Callie was in pain. He would always be there.  
  
***  
  
I did not want to be around anyone except Chibs for the next week. I stayed home, resting. Healing. Of course, people tried calling me. I did not take any except from Chibs. If it was important, they would call back. I needed time with just Chibs. Time to think. Time to decompress. I felt the need to step away from the club and give myself a moment. I did not think that was too much to ask, and Chibs did not either. In fact, he stepped away, too. We spent that first week together, doing nothing except just playing house. Doing the most mundane of tasks to clear our heads. Anything, really.  
The following week, I was fed up with the house. House work was not helping me, and frankly, I was a little bored. So, I decided to ride into town with Chibs and busy myself at TM. Anything to distract me. I thought that perhaps being around my brothers would do me good. Different pace. Different atmosphere. Chibs refused to let me do any kind of heavy work, but I did anything I could to keep myself busy. Organize the office. Help Chucky with spreadsheets and other paperwork. Put air in tires. Be a nuts and bolts holder. Clean the clubhouse. Spend time at the picnic tables with my annoying and amazing brothers. Believe me, it felt good to get out, and great to spend time with the men I called my family, but it was hard getting back into the swing of things.  
Chibs stuck to his word on rescheduling my birthday party. And he did not plan a small function, either. It was a massive blow out at the clubhouse. Everyone came. Mama Venus made cake. The party was loud, and Chibs and Tig made it a point to push all of the attention on me. I appreciated it, and the gifts given to me were nothing less than thoughtful. Tig bought me a new cut, and already had the patches ready to go. Venus gave me a set of the same honeysuckle scented body wash, which also came in lotion, a travel sized atomizer, and a fragrance mist I knew Chibs would nut out over. I was given gift cards and things from the rest of the club, and Chibs gave me several gifts. Some were gag-gifts inspired by inside jokes, but there was one that was absolutely stunning. Where he found it, I would never know. It was a necklace of a flying crow, and charm of a rose dangling from where the talons would be. He offered to put it on, and as soon as it was clasped around my neck, I never wanted to take it off.  
As the party wore on, so did my patience. I kept pushing to enjoy myself, but as everyone was getting good and drunk and rowdy—a time where I normally would have parked myself on Chibs’ lap, kissing him and getting drunk right along with everyone, I just wanted to go home. I made it to 11:00 before all of the noise fried my nerves. I caught Chibs before he could start drinking and told him that I hated to be the pooper of my own party, but I wanted to go home. He was a little surprised, but did not argue with me. We said goodnight to the party, took my gifts, and went home. I changed clothes and went straight to bed. Chibs did not fall far behind, and locked his arms protectively around my torso and laid his head on my chest, both of us not sleeping as we watched the moonlight filter through the curtains.  
I spent a day with Venus after my party, getting some quality girl time in. We talked about everything and cooked all day. It was nice therapy for me. We made soup, baked a roast, then made cinnamon roles and watched old musicals all afternoon. She was enjoying her early retirement and living as a real Old Lady. Tig was treating her like a queen. Spoiling her. Romancing her like she deserved. It made me happy, seeing her so happy. Tig was out of his mind, but he was a good man, and I knew he would make a good husband for her. Hell, they may even get a chance at family life. Venus had mentioned that they would be heading up to see her son, Joey, who had been living with family of hers since her mother passed away. She did not tell me how that had played out, but she seemed excited to see him again. Tig was going with her, and they planned on explaining to the boy how their lives really were. Who she really was in relation to him. She thought it was time to let Joey know, and if it went south, or perhaps was really premature to let him know that Aunt Venus was really Dad, they would drop it. However, if he accepted Venus’ life, and accepted her relationship with Tig, they planned on asking him if he would like to move in with them. Granted, they would wait a year before they made any arrangements, but Vee was hopeful, and I was proud of her.  
I spent another day at the clubhouse, getting some time with my brothers. Rat decided to show me some pictures from Brooke’s recent ultrasound. However, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, the regret was written on his face. He had forgotten my heartache, and quickly apologized. I was not offended. In fact, I had been interested until he retracted. I insisted on letting me see Brooke’s six month ultrasound. Something shifted within me as Rat showed me little Felix. He pointed to his little head, arms and legs, and swore up and down that you could see what made Felix his little boy, but I did not see shit. It did not matter, though. It was seeing the pure joy in Rat’s eyes. He grinned like an idiot. For the first time in weeks, I felt a bit of my normal returning. We tried to hide the ultrasound pictures from Chibs, as I had no idea how he would react, but when he saw them, he smiled and hugged Rat, and like the younger man, swore that he saw the baby’s “11th finger.” I just rolled my eyes and laughed, and god, how it felt good to laugh.  
The doctor had informed me that my mourning period was going to take time to get over, and my hormones suddenly being reversed from their new direction would have me messed up for a little while, but he had promised me I would feel like myself again soon. It helped speaking with him, receiving closure for the depression I was going through. He had asked me if Chibs was handling his mourning, and when he asked, I found the question strange. Chibs had shown little to no signs of mourning the pregnancy, except for the night of. He seemed to have fallen back into his normal pretty quickly. However, what the doc described as normal symptoms of paternal mourning was not what Chibs had shown. He had his days were he was not as energetic, but nothing like what the doctor had described.  
When I returned home that day, and stood in the bathroom mirror, looking at my stomach and observing how the bruises had almost completely vanished, Chibs entered, took my hand, and led me to the toilet. He sat down on the closed lid, cupped my hips, rested his forehead on my abdomen, and shattered. He broke down, and I wrapped my hands around his head. I soothed him, then pulled him to stand and hugged him tightly. He couldn’t keep his mourning back any longer, and finally let it all go. I was proud of him for finally coming to terms with everything, and when the crying stopped, the weight was lifted from his shoulders. I could see the relief in his bloodshot eyes. That night, we laid in the bed in the dark, cuddling, sharing soft kisses, and talking. We talked about anything and everything, and nothing at all as we listened to the soft, melodic station playing from the clock radio at a very low volume. We laughed at each other—with each other. Teased each other. Shared our first happy and beautiful moment since the attack. Neither of us yawned until four in the morning, and even then, we did not want to go to sleep. We were enjoying each other. Having fun for the first time in almost a month. I ran my hands through his soft hair, admiring his handsome face, and he showed me that sweet smile he reserved for me. He caressed my face, watching me with loving eyes, kissed my eyelids, and what had become a loving gesture from an inside joke, lightly butted my forehead. I smiled and wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him like a child would hold a teddy bear, and we slept the day away, nuzzled together.  
Things became easier after that. Normal started to seep back into my life. Happiness did not seem so far away. The romance returned between us, and we spent every moment together as we had done when our relationship was just hours old. Being disgustingly cute. It was gross, and we loved every second of it. And goddammit, I loved that man. I loved him for everything he did, and all that he was. Our long talk reminded me of my feelings when I first fell in love with him. Those feelings quickly came back, and it was like a refresh button had been pressed on our lives. We could breathe again.  
One night, I stepped out onto the porch to have a smoke, indulging into my cravings. I sat out there for an hour, enjoying the warm spring air, the sound of crickets and tree frogs. It was beautiful out. I relaxed me into a state of zen, and I was so zoned out that I did not notice a black thing swoop down from the trees until it landed on the railing in front of me and cawed. I jumped, and the bird fluttered, but it did not budge. I stared in shock at the large black crow watching me curiously, not even afraid of me. As if it had been tame at one point.  
  
“Hi,” I said softly, snuffing out my cigarette into the plant tray turned ashtray.  
  
The crow shifted. I leaned forward and smiled at it.  
  
“You’re a pretty bird,” I said.  
  
Typical thing to say to a fucking bird, but he really was a pretty crow. No signs of fighting or abuse. His feathers were fluffy and shiny, and cast a blue glow in the light of the porch lamp. He made soft noises and tilted his head, examining the table. He was looking for a snack. I smiled and stood up.  
  
“Hold on a second, bud. I might have something for you,” I said.  
  
The bird shifted his feet and watched me intently. I stood up and slipped inside. I could hear the television in the living room, Chibs laughing at some stupid shit he was watching. I had lost interest in it, which is why I had escaped to the porch in the first place.  
I grabbed a box of Ritz crackers from the cabinets and returned to see the crow patiently waiting. I opened the box, produced a round cracker, and set it about a foot away from the crow. I did not want it to get excited and peck my finger off. I could only imagine trying to explain the injury to Chibs. The crow looked at the cracker, then hopped over to it, picked it up, and flew away. I watched it disappear to the trees at the border of Chibs’ property, then munched on a few crackers myself before going back in.  
The next night, I waited outside around the same time, this time with a piece of ham on the cracker. I waited a long time, and almost gave up, decided to leave the food out anyway, when the bird swooped in from the roof of the house and landed right on the table, nearly giving me a heart attack. I jumped and grabbed my chest. The bird just stared at me like I was an idiot.  
  
“Hey, buddy,” I said.  
  
The bird lowered his head and opened his beak. He dropped a little pink button from Lord knows where on the glass, then flew over to the railing to enjoy his snack. I examined the button, wondering where it came from before realizing he had left me a gift. I had heard stories of crows doing it, but I thought only tame ones did it. Maybe they just had to be fed by a human first. Either way, I appreciated the sentiment from the gorgeous creature. He snacked on his ham and cracker in front of me, then cleaned himself for a moment. I stayed until he decided to go to his roost before I joined Chibs in the living room.  
The night afterwards, the crow never showed. I left him some leftover breadsticks from our dinner and waited for a long time. There was no sign of him. Tired, I returned inside to finish helping Chibs with the dishes. About an hour later, I returned to the porch to find the breadsticks gone, and in their place, another pink button, this one a little smaller than the last. I smiled and took the gift, then looked around at the black sky.  
  
“Thanks,” I said, wondering if he was in hearing range.  
  
I returned inside and washed the second button as I had done to the first, then took them to our room and put them in my jewelry box. Then, I walked back out into the living room, grabbed Chibs’ Harley blanket he had left on the back of the couch, and dug through his horror movies, looking for something to watch. When I made my decision, I popped the disc in the DVD player.  
Chibs entered the room about five minutes in.  
  
“Hey, love. Found ya a movie?” he asked.  
  
I smiled up at him and nodded.  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me you had some old ones?” I asked.  
  
He shrugged, then playfully scooted me aside. I scoffed and climbed into his lap.  
  
“I have a ton of these old classics. Always been a fan of the undead,” he said.  
  
I snorted.  
  
“Yeah? I saw your copy of _Red Woody’s Skankenstein_ ,” I replied.  
  
He raised an eyebrow at me.  
  
“We could watch that next,” he suggested playfully.  
  
I laughed and swatted his shoulder. He laughed at me and tightened his arms around my torso. I turned my focus back to the film.  
I looked up at Chibs, then leaned forward and kissed his deeper scar. His eyes fluttered closed and he let his head fall towards me, nuzzling his face against mine. I had a feeling that the nightmare was finally over. The mourning was over with. We could move on. Normal had finally returned.  
  
“I love you, Filip.”  
  
“I love ya, too, my sweet Callie girl.” 


	41. Second Chance

I wasn’t sure if Chibs knew I was awake when his fingers found their way to my hair. I lay still, and relaxed at the soothing feeling of his short fingernails against my scalp. He lightly pulled my freshly dyed hair through his fingers. He let his fingers travel across the back of my neck and down my bare back. He traced my club ink lightly, causing goosebumps to erupt all over my skin. He flatted his palm against my back and ran his hand slowly down my back and around my side. I was ticklish, but the slow travel speed and his warm palm elicited nothing but a soft moan from my lips. I felt his breath on the back of my neck and could just feel the tip of his nose in my hair. The hand traveling my body moved down through the sheets and between my legs. I tensed, wondering if he really was going to do it, or was just going to be a tease this morning. I couldn’t handle a tease. With the way he was touching me, I was going to pin him down.  
Then, his middle finger dipped down and found its destination. He began to rub in deliberately slow circles. Only then did I quit pretending to be asleep, and gasped and clutched the sheets. He pulled himself closer to me and pressed his lips to the back of my neck. I buried my face into my pillow as he kissed his way down to my shoulder, working his magic and causing heat to pool in the bottom of my stomach. I let my body relax, enjoying every little sensation of pleasure. I gripped the sheets as he applied more pressure and let his other fingers explore. I sighed contentedly. I knew he could feel my arousal. He teased me, making me turn on my side and writhe. My toes curled and my legs locked. He licked the outside of my ear, and an electrical jolt made me squeeze my thighs together so tightly, he could not longer move his hand.  
Chibs lifted himself, moving within the sheets as he loomed above me, and I rolled onto my back to gaze up at him for the first time that day. His long hair dangled around his face, even though he had had it trimmed a little. I smiled up at him and every bone in my body melted. He never ceased to make my body flush, or my cheeks heat up embarrassingly. He carefully took my face in his hands and kissed me passionately. I moaned softly and wrapped my arms around his head and neck, tunneling my fingers into his hair. His lips moved gently against mine. Normally, he got a little impatient, and what would start as a peck turned into a rough assault that had me wanting to throw his ass against a wall and jump his bones. Not today, though. He took his time, kissing me carefully and letting everything happen at a normal pace. Letting everything develop. His rough hands slowly moved across my skin, and I let my own hands travel across the expanse of his shoulders and down his arms, feeling the soft skin and muscles beneath. He kissed me once more before gazing down at me. He said nothing as he smiled. I cupped his cheeks and stroked them. Every time his scars were touched, his eyes would flutter closed and he would surrender completely. I kissed one and pulled him down on top of me.  
Chibs locked his lips on my neck and blindly reached for the nightstand. We had learned our lesson from the last time, and since, I had been back on the pill, but we became extra careful, as anyone not wanting kids should be. Protection in place, he scooped me up and kissed me passionately as he lowered himself into me. The noise to come out of my mouth next was a mixture of a whimper and a sigh. He pushed an arm into the mattress and held the top of the headboard while I held him, exploring his chest with my mouth. He moved slowly, and I moved with him, answering him, making every movement count. He moaned softly and dropped over me, locking his mouth with mine, his hands finding my chest. I let my hands roam his back as our heads turned, massaging our lips against each other. When we would break away to breathe, he nuzzled my face. We traveled to another place in that moment, losing ourselves to each other and forgetting the world. He smiled through deep concentration, his eyes never leaving mine until pleasure took him, and he automatically closed his eyes.  
We never kicked it into overdrive. We kept our pace slow and steady, and even at a slow pace, I could feel my own orgasm building. It was the most delicious torture, but it was wonderful. Watching Chibs move, his hips rolling against mine, his eyes studying my body. It made me feel incredible, and he had no idea how breathtaking he looked.  
I felt myself begin to throb around him, and I craved for him to just take flight and bring me overboard, but he kept his tempo with our heartbeats. I closed my eyes and arched into him, my short nails digging into his chest. The throbbing increasing in intensity, and I felt like a car on the edge of a cliff, teetering between safety and falling. My pleasure built upon itself more and more in a way I had never experienced before. It was ongoing, and I didn’t dare do anything to speed up to process or ruin it. I was so close, and I could feel his need. He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered, keeping his cool as I twitched and pulsed around him. Then, suddenly, I felt it. I threw my arms around Chibs, grabbed handfuls of his ass, and wave upon wave of white hot pleasure tumbled over me. I moaned loudly and gripped around him hard. He lost it upon the first pulse, and buried his face in the crook of my neck, groaning and shuddering. I twitched throughout the last aftershocks, and hugged him to me, shaking. He wrapped his arms around me and turned to putty. We laid still for several long minutes, basking and waiting for our heart rates to settle. We had not made love like that since before the attack. That was absolutely amazing!  
Chibs lifted himself off of me and smiled.  
  
“Good mornin’, sweetheart,” he said.  
  
I smiled broadly and wrapped my arms around his neck.  
  
“Good morning, sweet boy. You couldn’t wait one more minute, huh?”  
  
He smiled.  
  
“Can’t help it. You’re so beautiful,” he said, then dropped down and kissed me.  
  
I laughed and took his goatee between my fingers.  
  
“You old goat,” I said jokingly.  
  
He grinned and butted his hard head against mine. It didn’t hurt a little this time, but I laughed it off.  
  
“Ow, asshole!” I said, playfully.  
  
I grabbed his sides, making him laugh and roll off of me.  
  
“What’s the plan for the day, Prez?” I asked.  
  
He fell to my side and smiled.  
  
“Nothin’,” he replied, sighing contentedly.  
  
He suddenly grinned mischievously.  
  
“Let’s go to the clubhouse,” he said.  
  
I smiled at his excitement.  
  
“The clubhouse?” I asked.  
  
He slipped out of the bed, disengaging his protection before hunting for a pair of boxers.  
  
“Yeah. See what kinda trouble we can get ourselves into,” he said.  
  
I smiled and tossed the sheets to the side.  
  
“Well, I guess. Since I’m awake anyway,” I said sarcastically.  
  
I walked up to him as he pulled a t-shirt over his head. I found one of my folded tanks sitting on the dresser, yet to be put away, and pulled it over my head. When his head popped out of his shirt, I quickly kissed him.  
  
“I love you,” I said.  
  
He smiled and kissed me back.  
  
“I love you, too.”  
  
We quickly finished getting dressed, then raced each other out to the bikes, tearing off to Charming. It was time to play.  
  
***  
  
Rat run up to me out of nowhere. Chibs and I were in the chapel, and I was helping him with bookwork for Redwoody when Rat shot in and slammed a bright blue water gun on the table. Chibs and I looked up at him like he had lost it.  
  
“What the hell is that?” Chibs asked.  
  
“Water gun. Hap has the other one. We’re ganging up on Tig and we need one more,” he said.  
  
Chibs just stared at him. I bit my lip and looked down at him.  
  
“What? This some Call of Duty shite?” he asked.  
  
Rat nodded. I bounced on the balls on my feet anxiously. Chibs glanced up at me and groaned.  
  
“Go on,” he said.  
  
I grinned and grabbed the heavy piece of plastic before taking off through the clubhouse.  
  
“Tig’s out at the picnic tables,” he said.  
  
“And Hap?” I asked.  
  
“That, I don’t know,” he said.  
  
I smiled. I wasn’t sure what Tig had done to deserve us idiots soaking him with water guns, but I know that Pops was gonna get it.  
Rat ran to the window and peered out. Tig was relaxing with T.O., both having a smoke.  
  
“Shit. If we get T.O. he’ll kick my ass,” he said worriedly.  
  
I shrugged, then opened the door, leaving my gun hidden as I poked my head out.  
  
“Hey, T! Can you come here for a sec?” I asked.  
  
T.O. looked up and nodded, then depleted his cigarette before getting up and walking inside.  
  
“What’s going on. You kids look like you’re up to no good,” he said.  
  
Rat walked over to the door, pumping his water gun.  
  
“We are,” he said with a smile, then shot out the door.  
  
“We didn’t want you in the line of fire,” I explained quickly, then followed Rat  
  
Rat ran up behind Tig and shot water right at his neck. Tig jumped to his feet and yelped. He spun around, outraged when he saw Ratty boy with the gun. I pointed mine and soaked his t-shirt sleeve. Tig looked at me and his jaw dropped.  
  
“What the fuck was that for?” he barked out.  
  
“Come on, Dad,” Rat said, “You know exactly what this is for.”  
  
Tig’s eyes widened.  
  
“Why the hell do you have Callie in on this?” he asked.  
  
I shrugged.  
  
“I just saw an opportunity,” I said.  
  
Tig snarled. Rat shot him again, and we both soaked Tig relentlessly until we had him backed out from under the awning.  
  
“Alright! Alright!” Tig shouted out.  
  
Before he could turn and scold us, he was sprayed right in the face from on high. Rat and I turned to see Happy on the roof, grinning.  
  
“Hey!” Tig screamed.  
  
He rubbed his eyes free of water and looked to us.  
  
“You got Happy in on this?” he asked in disbelief.  
  
Happy shrugged.  
  
“Water guns, bro. Couldn’t resist,” he said.  
  
Tig growled and pointed to Rat and I.  
  
“You’re both dead!” he hissed.  
  
It took only a split second before Tig charged, and Rat and I ran away laughing. I followed him back inside the clubhouse, squealing and trying not to slip on the smooth concrete floor.  
  
“Chibs!” I screamed.  
  
Chibs appeared in the doorway of the chapel and smirked. I ran behind him and hid.  
  
“Tig’s gonna kill me,” I said.  
  
Chibs crossed his arms over his chest. We watched as Tig prowled towards us.  
  
“I dunno if I can help ya with this one, love,” Chibs said, “Looks like ya’ve made your bed.”  
  
I gritted my teeth. Tig pointed to me.  
  
“Take that thing away from her,” he said to Chibs.  
  
I smiled meekly and held my water gun in a death grip. Deep within the clubhouse, Rat screamed and ran back through the lounge, Happy hot on his heels.  
  
“Callie! Help!” Rat shouted, then screamed like a girl when Happy shot him in the pants.  
  
I laughed and ducked out from behind Chibs to run to my brother’s rescue, hearing Tig say something about banning water guns as I ran out the door.  
  
***  
  
Tig shook his wet head, sprinkling Chibs. Chibs held his arm up and ducked.  
  
“Tiggy! Watch it!”  
  
Tig saw what he had done too late and smiled.  
  
“Sorry, brother.”  
  
Chibs wiped his arm and looked towards the sound of Rat and Callie squealing. Tig smiled.  
  
“She seems really happy,” he said.  
  
Chibs smiled at his VP.  
  
“Aye. She’s been doin’ really well this past week. I think the hard part is over with,” he replied.  
  
Tig smiled and nodded. Chibs returned to his work and Tig followed, shutting the doors behind him.  
  
“I really worry about her,” he admitted to Chibs, “Maybe ‘cause she’s the smallest and the youngest.”  
  
Chibs smiled up at him.  
  
“Giver her an inch, and she’s the deadliest,” he said.  
  
Tig smiled at that and sat down in his chair. Chibs took his seat at the head and put his glasses on to read and see what he was writing.  
  
“Do we have a game plan for her? One to keep her safe? L’s still at large,” Tig said.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“I know. I’ve thought about it, but in the end, whether we hide her somewhere else or not, it won’t matter. Somehow, he’ll find her. The only thing we can do is make sure we’re together at all times. Ride together. Only way to make sure she’s safe,” he replied.  
  
Tig nodded.  
  
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he said.  
  
Chibs made a mark on a piece of paper with his pen. Tig watched him for a moment before leaning forward.  
  
“You know, I was thinking that maybe we could take it a step further. Ensure she can’t be tracked,” he said.  
  
Chibs looked up from his paper and stared at Tig for a moment before removing his glasses.  
  
“What’d ya have in mind, Tiggy?”  
  
He set his pen down and leaned back in the chair. At this point, he was open to any ideas. The last thing in the world he wanted was to lose his Old Lady.  
  
“Well, I thought that maybe, you know, somehow we could go about changing her name. Getting it out of the system. I don’t mean like, legally changing her name, but use some kind of pseudo name so her name won’t come up. Does that make sense?”  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“That’s a lot of steps, though. If ya don’t cover your ass just right, it could unravel. Lotta paperwork. Paper trail. We definitely don’t want that,” he said.  
  
Tig nodded in agreement.  
  
“Oh yeah. For sure, brother. It was just an idea,” he said.  
  
“Not a bad one,” Chibs said, “Just not the right one.”  
  
Tig nodded. Chibs looked down in thought for a moment.  
  
“There is somethin’ I’ve been thinkin’ about, Tiggy. I need your advice on it,” he said.  
  
Tig looked up at his brother, eyebrows furrowing with concern.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
Chibs swallowed thickly. He had been bouncing this particular idea in his head for a while. Perhaps since Rat and Brooke’s wedding, but the more he thought about it, he realized he had been living with this idea much longer. He knew that he was positive about going through with it. He just did not know when. When was the right time? Was it the wrong time? Was there even a right or wrong time at all? He needed guidance from his older brother.  
  
“It would help keep Callie a little bit more protected. So long as it’s kept under the radar. No public record. Keep insurances and shit like that separated until we’re clear,” Chibs began, “But that’s not the entire reason I wanna do it.”  
  
“Do what, brother?” Tig asked.  
  
Chibs gave Tig a small smile.  
  
“Might have to ask for your blessing on this one.”  
  
***  
  
For lunch, the entire club stopped at a bar for burgers and chicken wings. Tig, for what I’ll never know, would not stop staring at me, and I finally had enough and threw a French fry at him. The boys started laughing and Tig was fuming. I turned to Chibs and turned my nose up.  
  
“Do I have a booger?” I asked.  
  
He shook his head, so I showed him my teeth.  
  
“What about something in my teeth?”  
  
He shook his head again.  
  
“All clear, love,” he said.  
  
I wadded my napkin and shot Tigger a look.  
  
“Then why the hell are you staring?” I asked.  
  
He shrugged.  
  
“It’s just good to see you happy again, baby girl,” he said.  
  
I just smiled shyly. Rane, who was sitting beside me in the round booth, clapped a hand on my shoulder.  
  
“Yeah. Real good to see ya back in the groove, darlin’,” he said.  
  
I smiled and thanked both of them. Chibs phone vibrated in his pocket and he answered it after popping a free in his mouth.  
  
“Hello?…When?” he asked, suddenly annoyed, “…Fine. We’ll be there.”  
  
He closed his phone with a snap and looked down to me.  
  
“We gotta go, sweetheart,” he said.  
  
I looked up at him in alarm.  
  
“Where?” I asked.  
  
He sighed as he slipped his phone back in his pocket.  
  
“Sheriff’s Department. Althea wants to see us,” he said.  
  
I rolled my eyes.  
  
“Christ!” I spat.  
  
“C’mon. Let’s just go and get it over with,” he said.  
  
Tig looked up at us.  
  
“We got this. You guys go ahead. We’ll catch up later,” he said.  
  
Chibs and I thanked him and after sliding out of the booth, we walked out to our bikes and I followed him to the station.  
The San Joaquin Sheriff’s Department, formerly the Charming Police Department, was a bland box of a building with steps and a wheelchair ramp leading to the front doors. I parked my Sportster beside Chibs’ Dyna and walked behind as we ascended the ramp. He took my hand and playfully swung it.  
  
“I don’t recall the last time I went inside this building. Definitely not since it was taken over by the county,” he said.  
  
I squeezed his hand.  
  
“Be glad we’re not locked in it,” I said.  
  
He laughed.  
  
“We might be within the hour,” he said jokingly.  
  
I smiled at him and he held the door open for me. We slipped inside and looked around the small bustling office. He spotted someone and led me to them. There was a short blonde woman in uniform, walking around with a clipboard. When she looked up, surprise crossed her features.  
  
“Chibs,” she said.  
  
I narrowed my eyes, thinking it strange that this officer, who didn’t look much older than me, knew Chibs, and by his club name.  
  
“Eglee,” he said.  
  
“You looking for Jarry?” she asked.  
  
He nodded.  
  
“She called. Asked us to come up here,” he replied.  
  
Eglee nodded.  
  
“Filip. Callie,” a strict voice spoke that made my stomach roll.  
  
“She’s been waiting,” Eglee said, then nodded to us before going on her way.  
  
I shot Chibs a look. He just smiled.  
  
“She went to school with Jackie Boy,” he explained.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Ah.”  
  
Chibs put a hand on my back and we walked to Althea, who was standing in the doorway of her office.  
  
“Come in. I have some information I think might be of use to you,” she said.  
  
I walked inside first and Chibs followed behind, shutting the door.  
  
“Please, sit,” she insisted, sitting behind her desk.  
  
Neither of us made any move to obey. She sighed and clasped her hands on her desk.  
  
“Or not. Doesn’t matter to me. I just thought I might update you on the case of Callie’s assault, and Christmas and Maddox’s murders.”  
  
“How much time are they wantin’ to slap on me now?” Chibs asked, annoyed.  
  
Althea shook her head.  
  
“None. They can’t tie you to the murder of either. As far as they’re concerned, you came to rescue Callie. The only murder they can tie to anyone is Christmas’ murder to Callie,” she said.  
  
I looked from her to Chibs, and we looked at each other with worry.  
  
“I promise you,” I said to Althea, “That was out of self-defense, and I’ll take that to court if I have to.”  
  
“I know,” she said, “And so does the department. It’s been ruled as self-defense. Don’t worry. No one is being charged for anything except for Hanes, if you would like to file an assault charge.”  
  
“That won’t be necessary,” Chibs said sternly, “Ya just make sure ya throw that bastard in prison.”  
  
“We’re currently working on it. Right now, he’s MIA. We have an APB out on the van and his bike,” she said.  
  
Chibs snorted.  
  
“It’s statewide. Don’t go hunting him down unless he pursues you first. Don’t start another battle, Filip.”  
  
I gritted my teeth and stared her down. I wished she wouldn’t talk to him like she was his mother. The only people who called him his real name were me and Venus. Everyone else respectfully addressed him as Mr. Telford, and even though their past didn’t permit her addressing him so formally, I wished she would just call him Chibs.  
  
“I’ll do what I have to to keep my Old Lady and my club safe. I don’t give two shits about legal protocol,” Chibs spat.  
  
Althea huffed.  
  
“I know, but you will if you want to remain out of County,” she said strictly.  
  
Chibs rolled his eyes.  
  
“Are we done?” he asked impatiently.  
  
Althea nodded.  
  
“Yes,” she replied.  
  
Chibs turned to me and put his hand on the small of my back.  
  
“Let’s go, love.”  
  
I nodded and started to leave when Althea spoke.  
  
“Oh! Callie, may I have a moment?” she asked.  
  
I stopped and looked to her, then up to Chibs. He patted my back.  
  
“I’ll be right outside the door,” he said.  
  
I nodded. I didn’t plan on shutting it.  
  
He walked out and I turned to face Althea.  
  
“What?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.  
  
She stood from the desk.  
  
“I know about your connection to The VII. Even though, both of you lied to me, I found some information.”  
  
I felt my jaw drop, pissed.  
  
“What the fuck? Did you dig through my records?” I asked.  
  
She stiffened.  
  
“I was getting information on M/C. I found you through a Zero Owens,” she said.  
  
I set my jaw.  
  
“You leave him alone,” I said lowly.  
  
“He was your fiancé,” she said.  
  
“And he was a fucking angel. Don’t you dare drag his name through the dirt,” I growled.  
  
She backed off a little.  
  
“I was just piecing together the facts,” she said.  
  
“Oh, I’ll give you the facts, dammit,” I snapped, “Zero Owens was my fiancé for three years. He was dying of heart disease and planned on leaving the club to focus on his health. Leaving made him a liability, and Shane took it upon himself to take him out. Lancaster Hanes killed him. Drugged him with lethal amounts of oxy. The club kept that a secret and pushed me away to make sure I never found out. I went six years living alone fighting depression before I decided I couldn’t take it anymore. I left Huntington Beach, packed up the bare essentials and headed north to Seattle. Shane discovered I bounced, thought I was leaving to rat because I found out what happened to Zero, and sent on of his Prospects after me. The motherfucker ran me off the road outside of Charming and thankfully, the Sons were riding out on the highway that night. They found me. Chibs saved my life. Tig took me into his home and I later moved in with Chibs. The VII thought I came up here to rat to the M/C so I could seek revenge for my late-fiancé’s when in reality, I had no idea what had happened until RJ told me. I had not planned a life in Charming. I was heading to Seattle to visit my parents’ graves before I blew my own goddamn brains out. Those are the facts, Althea. The VII want me dead because of what I know. Lancaster motherfucking Hanes murdered Zero Jasper Owens with oxy. Tried to kill me and Happy Lowman and prematurely ended a pregnancy. He’s made his bed. Now, I suggest you take those facts and use them before we do.”  
  
“I can’t go on word alone,” she said.  
  
“Oh, but you will,” I said, then slammed the door in her face.  
  
Chibs was standing just outside, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. He blew his cheeks out and exhaled loudly.  
  
“Ya had to go there, huh?” he asked.  
  
I put my hands in my cut pockets.  
  
“She needed to know,” I said, “Understand.”  
  
He nodded.  
  
“Let’s get out of here. I want to get my hands one of those water guns,” he said.  
  
I smiled up at him as he tossed an arm around my shoulders.  
  
“And who are we targeting?” I asked.  
  
He smiled and kissed the side of my head.  
  
“You,” he said.  
  
I scoffed.  
  
“Me?” he asked.  
  
He grinned.  
  
“Get ya wet and head back to the apartment. Dry off under the sheets,” he said seductively.  
  
I felt like goo.  
  
“Fine, but I doubt you’ll catch me,” I said.  
  
He smirked.  
  
“You’re on, Callie girl.”  
  
***  
  
“We’re going for a ride.”  
  
Those words were spoken many a time in the SAMCRO clubhouse, because that’s what we did. However, when that sentence was uttered today, it had been preceded by Chibs Telford bursting through the clubhouse door, stepping with unbreakable confidence as he held his head high and broad shoulders square. I only realized too late that his eyes were aflame with the light of trouble, and did not have more than a second to dwell on it as I was ripped from the barstool and tossed over the man’s shoulders like a sack of potatoes. He was on a mission, and apparently, predicted I would resist. There was no escaping my perch from six feet in the air, and I submitted.  
  
“We’re going for a ride,” he said to the club.  
  
I could tell.  
  
He toted me back down the hall, grabbing my jacket from the coat rack as he carried me out of the clubhouse. Before I had been so rudely interrupted, Rat and I had been hanging out, listening to music and talking. Catching up. I had poked and prodded the kid, trying to get answers as to why a “quick errand” had become day-long outing. Tig and Chibs had left at ten o’ clock this morning to get some business done. An hour passed, and then lunch, and I don’t think anyone could blame me for worrying by the time the sun set. I had paced in front of the window like a dog waiting for their master to return, and Rat had forced a beer into my hands. The fact that he wasn’t worried at all led me to believe that the business our Prez and VP were attending to was more of a scheme. A game was being played around me, and even though it was none of my business, Rat’s amusement made me engage him.  
  
“You know exactly what they’re doing, don’t you?” I asked, walking around the bar, chasing him down.  
  
Rat laughed and popped a handful of trail mix into his mouth.  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Cal,” he said with a grin.  
  
I squinted, staring him down. It suddenly dawned on me that Chibs strict instructions to remain at the clubhouse until he returned, and Rat keeping me in the dark that something was afoot—and it reeked of a quality Filip scheme. The question was what the hell was going on in his brilliant mind, and who the hell put it in his head. They were going to hear about it. I was going stir crazy!  
  
“They’re up to absolutely no good, aren’t they?” I asked.  
  
Rat shrugged.  
  
“Just club business,” he replied.  
  
“Club business is known by ALL club members. That’s the rule. This is something else, Rat. Tell me.”  
  
“I know nothing,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender.  
  
I walked up to the bar and sat in front of him.  
  
“Is it something I should prepare myself for?” I asked, “You could at least give me a heads-up.”  
  
Rat tapped his fingers on the beer bottle in his hand.  
  
“Well,” he said, not the least bit serious, “Not really. Well, yeah. No, no. It’s all cool.”  
  
I sighed and rolled my eyes.  
  
“So, if I go ask Hap—“  
  
“He won’t know anything.”  
  
I snorted.  
  
“And if I go to the garage and ask Rane, will—“  
  
“Not allowed to leave the clubhouse. Chibs’ orders,” he said.  
  
I slammed my hand down on the countertop.  
  
“AH HA! So you do know something!” I accused.  
  
Rat shook his head.  
  
“I don’t know anything,” he said.  
  
I let my head fall back and groaned.  
  
“I swear to God, Rat!”  
  
Rat just grinned. That’s when all hell broke loose. Chibs stormed in, went full caveman, and before I knew it, I was planted next to my bike and my helmet was forced into my hands. I stared up at my Old Man, relieved to see him, and a little pissed.  
  
“What the hell is going?” I asked.  
  
He grinned.  
  
“We’re hittin’ the road. You’re ridin’ next to me,” he said.  
  
I had no time to argue, and geared up before mounting and starting my bike. He was parked next to me, and gave me this cheesy grin.  
  
“My love,” he teased.  
  
Yup. He had lost it.  
  
“My sweet boy.”  
  
He smiled and revved his bike. He proceeded to pull forward, and one by one, we followed behind him, pulling onto the street and driving through Charming. Once we hit the highway, the world disappeared. We fell into the movement our bikes, the machines becoming extensions of our bodies, the roar our music, and the lights our guides. Chibs rode slightly ahead of me in the right lane, and Tig just behind him. The highway seemed to be ours tonight. We passed maybe one or two cars by the time we hit the slowly winding striped concrete. I watched Chibs out of the corner of my eye as we traveled, watching for his signals as he directed the pack. He led us out of Charming and through the countryside. Everything was dark out, and we carefully drove close to each other, letting ourselves become one with the road. It was wonderful, getting out in the early summer night air, breathing in the smell of hay and grass, and soon enough, pine.  
Chibs led us to the road that led into the hills, and we rode into the forest. As we climbed I realized that his was the same route to Charming’s make-out point, and remembered fondly making out with Chibs on the fence and nearly falling off. We had spent several hours out there, resting on the bike, sitting on the fence watching the stars, and to our surprise, it was a night of a meteor shower. I wasn’t aware of any meteor showers tonight, but it was beautiful out regardless. I wouldn’t have minded riding all night long, so long as it was with my brothers.  
  
“Callie!”  
  
I glanced over at Chibs to see him signal to turn left. I signaled, and we slowed down at the top of the mountain. He turned, and I followed behind him to a gravel area. Tig revved his bike, and as I parked behind Chibs and looked over my shoulder to see the rest of the boys keep trucking. I looked to see Chibs park his bike, and I nervously followed suit. What the hell was going on?  
  
“What are we doing up here, Filip?” I asked, removing my helmet and setting it on the tank.  
  
He hung his helmet on the handlebars of the Dyna and dismounted.  
  
“Have ya seen the lights of Charmin’ at night?” he asked.  
  
I just smiled and shook my head. He held his hands out for me, and I took it and walked with him to the fence.  
  
“What have you been up to, baby?” I asked tiredly, sick of asking everyone what the hell he had been up to.  
  
“This and that,” he said.  
  
I sighed.  
  
“Well it must be something pretty damn special to keep me in the dark,” I said.  
  
He smiled.  
  
“Oh, it is, love,” he said.  
  
We climbed over the fence to sit on the top. I slipped my arm threw his and laid my head on his shoulder.  
  
“I missed you today,” I said.  
  
He took a deep breath and nuzzled the top of my head.  
  
“I missed you, too, love. Believe me, I did,” he said.  
  
I smiled. He tilted my head up and pressed his lips to mine. I smiled into the kiss. He broke away, leaving me wanting more. Come on, man! You make me worry about you all day, surprise me with an evening visit to the overlook, then not expect me to want to relive our first date out here? Are you kidding me, Filip?  
  
“What has my scheming best friend been up to?” I asked.  
  
Chibs playfully scoffed.  
  
“What makes ya think I’ve been schemin’?” he asked, pretending to be offended.  
  
I smirked.  
  
“I’m your Old Lady. I _know_ ,” I said playfully.  
  
Chibs smiled and kissed me softly.  
  
“I might have been up to a little bit of mischief,” he said softly.  
  
He reached up and touched the crow pendant around my neck, lightly touching the rose charm and smiling warmly.  
  
“Like what?” I asked.  
  
His eyes flickered up to me, and his smile faded.  
  
“Tiggy and I were talkin’ the other day, and I thought I should run this by ya,” he began.  
  
I frowned.  
  
“Is it…bad?” I asked warily.  
  
He shook his head.  
  
“Love, no. If it was, I promise, I would have already told ya. No, it’s good. I’m just…not quite sure how to word it,” he said.  
  
I reached down and laced his fingers with mine, lightly squeezing his hand and silently inviting him to continue. I was listening.  
  
“He was tryin’ to think of some new ways to keep ya safe. Off L’s radar,” he began, “and he suggested a name change. Not legal, but a means to disguise ya.”  
  
I sighed and shook my head.  
  
“I can’t do that, Chibs. That means a paper trail,” I replied.  
  
“I know. That’s what I told him, and he agreed. But, I did have another idea,” he replied.  
  
His eyes met mine, and he smiled lovingly and tucked my hair behind my ear.  
  
“It’s like his idea, and there would be paper, but it wouldn’t be nearly as extensive as his idea. I don’t think it would be, anyway,” he said.  
  
I tilted my head to the side.  
  
“Fake identity?” I asked.  
  
“No. It would definitely be a real identity. Name change type thing. And, ya know…” his eyes met mine, and he took a deep breath, “I’m not askin’ ya this solely based upon the name change. I have…somethin’ else in mind.”  
  
My eyebrows knitted together.  
  
“I’m confused,” I said.  
  
He sighed and turned slightly towards me.  
  
“I’ve been sittin’ on this idea for a while, and I felt like now would be a good time to ask. Now, I don’t want ya agreein’ to it based off of the whole name thing alone. I want ya to agree to it because ya want to, and because ya feel the same way.”  
  
He reached down, picked my hands up, and kissed my knuckles. I couldn’t help but smile.  
  
“I love you, Callie. I love you with all my heart,” he said.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“I love you, too, Filip.”  
  
He returned the smile.  
  
“You’re an angel, and don’t argue with me about that, ‘cause ya are. You have been such a light in my life, an amazing friend, and an incredible woman. I’m so proud of ya. Overcomin’ all of your troubles and fears, helping this club. Helpin’ me through my darker moments. Lovin’ me through my bullshit. Lovin’ me _regardless_ of my bullshit. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time, and I want ya with me for the long haul. Tiggy and I went out today, and I got ya this.”  
  
He pulled something out of his pocket and produced a black leather, or at least, what felt like leather, box. I carefully held the box, examining it, certain it was some sort of club something.  
  
“Before ya open that,” he said quickly, “I just want ya to know that if ya feel like it’s early, or you’re uncomfortable, I won’t be upset. I’m aware this is a little premature, but I still wanted to present it to ya. It’s okay if ya don’t agree right now. We can totally wait.”  
  
I raised an eyebrow, suspicious.  
  
“Wait for what?” I asked.  
  
He smiled.  
  
“Just open it,” he whispered.  
  
I slowly turned my attention back to the box and lifted the lid. When I saw its content, I jumped, gasped, and slapped my free hand over my mouth.  
  
“I want ya to marry me, Callie. Be my queen.”  
  
I let out a shaky breathe and reached into the box to pull out the ring. It was a beautiful silver ring, a gleaming diamond set in the middle, framed in Celtic knots.  
  
“Oh my God,” I whispered.  
  
He waited patiently, probably to see if I would kiss him or punch him.  
  
“I made sure they set the rock low enough so ya could wear your gloves over it,” he said.  
  
I laughed through my heart racing, ready to leap out of my mouth.  
  
“God, Filip. It’s beautiful. I mean, really beautiful,” I said.  
  
He just smiled.  
  
“Aye.”  
  
I just stared at the thing, my mind screaming my answer and my mouth currently out of order.  
  
“We don’t even have to get married right away. It doesn’t matter. We could hold this off, even. I just…with all the shit we’ve been through, it made me realize how much ya meant to me. You’re the first woman I’ve been able to call my Old Lady. See a future with. I mean, with Fiona, we were young and dumb. She hated bein’ called an Old Lady. We just moved through the motions. This, what we have, is real.”  
  
I took a deep breath and looked up at him. When I saw his big brown eyes, I had to smile.  
  
“You are so special to me, Filip. You mean the world to me, and I love you. I love you so much. You have no idea,” I said.  
  
He smiled shyly.  
  
“You’re my hero, baby, and I absolutely adore you. I’m not wearing this crow for nothing. I want to be with you for the rest of our lives. We share a house together. Share our lives. We share everything. I would be honored to share your name,” I said.  
  
He beamed.  
  
“Ya don’t feel it’s too early?” he asked.  
  
I sighed.  
  
“It is, but in this life, we’re not promised tomorrow. I mean, no one is, be we certainly aren’t,” I said.  
  
I cupped his cheeks and smiled at him.  
  
“Yes,” I said.  
  
His eyes widened and his face lit up.  
  
“Yes?” he asked.  
  
I smiled, tears pricking my eyes.  
  
“Yes, baby.”  
  
Chibs tackled me with a hug. I held him tightly, cradling the back of his head. He pulled back and his lips crashed against mine. I smiled into our kiss, our faces becoming wet as both of us shed tears. I smoothed his hair down as the wind blew it, and touched my forehead to his. Married or not, I was forever his. However, this meant the world to me.  
Chibs took the engagement ring and slipped it on my ring finger on my right hand, just a finger down from my SAMCRO ring. The ring was absolutely stunning, and I couldn’t help but get emotional. I had been through this once before with Zero, but we never got to make the next step. My engagement ring from him was buried with him. It was the only thing I could slip into the casket. To have a second chance at being someone’s better half…I had no words.  
  
“I love ya, Callie,” Chibs said.  
  
I looked up at him and wiped my eyes. He chuckled and clutched my hands.  
  
“I love you, too, Filip.”  
  
He leaned forward and kissed me passionately.  
  
“The club is going to go ape shit,” I said.  
  
Chibs laughed.  
  
“Nah. I ran it by all of them before I left to get the ring,” he said.  
  
I felt my jaw drop.  
  
“So that’s why you made Rat hold me hostage!”  
  
He grinned.  
  
“All out of love,” he replied.  
  
I giggled and put my arms back around him, kissing my fiancé, and small meteor shower going completely unnoticed.


	42. Surprise, Surprise

I finished straightening my hair and set it with hairspray before grabbing a pack of hairbands. I hadn’t purchased a set of hairbands in years. My hair had been a million variations of a pixie cut since I began riding. For the first time in years, it was long enough to tie into a ponytail. It was a small ponytail, but with my helmet smashing my hair, it tickled the shit out of my neck. I had entertained the thought of just letting it grow and see what happens, but I always backed out on it. I had to adapt to the bike. That included not being able to wear tennis shoes, as the bike was my main means of transportation, and in addition to wearing boots all the time, I also had to wear long pants. In the summer, I really missed shorts. It was already hot hear in Northern Cali, and I was beginning to plan on bringing a pair of shorts and flip-flops with me to wear around the clubhouse. Little things like that just irritated me, but I adapted to the best of my ability. I was happy that my newest accessory was already pre-adapted for a biker.  
I pulled my hair up and fought with it. The side that was originally the longest now reached my right shoulder. The other side was catching up, falling just an inch above the left shoulder. I knew I would have to get the sides evened soon, but I detested the idea of looking like I had a bob. I pulled my hair into a short ponytail, then grabbed a few bobby-pins and tucked the shorter pieces away, remembering another reason I kept my hair short. Long hair was too much work.

“Get in there, you little fucker,” I growled as I shoved a pin in my hair.

Chibs, who was passing by the bathroom door, stopped and turned to enter.

“Hey, darlin’,” he said, “Ya about got it?”

A piece of short hair fell on the opposite side. I froze for a moment, then growled and angrily yanked out all of the pins and ripped the band from my hair.

“No,” I said, picking the strands I had ripped from my hand out of the band, furious.

Chibs walked up behind me and drove his hands up my neck and into my hair. I let my anger fall away and smiled at the reflection of him playing with my hair. If running his fingers through my hair had not been one of his favorite things to do, and had I not enjoyed it so much, I would have chopped it without a second thought.

“Ya gonna let it get really long?” he asked.

I shrugged and tossed the hairband back onto the counter.

“I don’t know.”

I sighed and watched as he played with it, pressing himself against my backside.

“Ya should let it grow long enough so that when ya pull your helmet off, all of it cascades out and you’ll look like some biker goddess,” he said.

I laughed and watched as he let my hair fall from his fingers. He wrapped his arms around my torso and kissed the back of my head. I turned in his arms and backed myself against the counter. I started to push myself up onto the top, and he held my hips and helped me up. He took my hands, his eyes immediately looking on the ring. He beamed and kissed my knuckles. I couldn’t keep my own smile at bay. It was still a little unreal to me. I was looking at my future husband.

“Come here, my King,” I said softly, taking his face in my hands.

Chibs smiled and tilted his head to the side, pressing his lips to mine. I put my arms around his neck and sighed as his lips brushed the side of my neck.

“Ya know what would be evil of us to do?” he asked.

He raised his head, the light of mischief in his warm brown eyes.

“What?” I asked.

He lifted my hands and looked down at the ring.

“All of the guys knew that I was gonna propose. We should go to the clubhouse, and ya hide this,” he said, gesturing to the ring, “We act normal. Don’t bring anythin’ up. It’ll drive ‘em fuckin’ nuts.”

I burst out laughing, imagining how that would go down.

“That’s so evil,” I agreed.

“We could pretend we’re fightin’,” he suggested.

I pulled the ring from my finger and examined it, shaking my head.

“I think it’d be more torturous to pretend everything is fine. I just pretend I didn’t say yes,” I replied.

“Yeah. That’d probably be best. Ya know I’ll win an argument anyway,” he said, getting cocky.

I snorted.

“Ha! Shit!” I laughed.

He touched his forehead to mine, hands holding my sides. I closed my eyes and looped my arms around him. He sighed heavily and hugged me.

“I love you,” he said softly.

I smiled and laid my head on his shoulder.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Chibs leaned down and kissed me gently.

“Let’s go to the clubhouse. See how long we can fuck with them,” he said.

I smiled.

“Right behind you.”

***

At TM, I almost burst out laughing as I rode in behind Chibs. Everyone was there, and as soon as they heard the bikes pull in, they filed out of the clubhouse and watched us impatiently. I parked beside Chibs, my finger feeling strangely naked, as I had not taken the ring off until bed, and then had not put it back on until I was out of the shower. I wanted to wear it so badly. I was enamored by it. I was proud of it—its symbolism that I was taken. I was even prouder of the man who had given it to me, and it was hard not to just smile and hug him, imagining our lives once this shit with L was finally over with. It really didn’t matter if there was a ring or not. We were already committed to each other. Our ink was proof. However, to be bound to him legally, to be able to say husband where the term “Old Man” was meaningless felt right.  
Chibs walked up beside me and leaned down to my ear.

“Where’s your ring?” he whispered.

“Pocket,” I whispered back.

He nodded and walked ahead of me. I quickly followed behind. The guys were watching us intently, just waiting for one of us to say something.

“Morning, guys,” Rane said.

“Morning,” Chibs and I replied.

Happy just glared at us, impatient. I walked up to Tig and removed my gloves. I caught his eyes locking onto my fingers, and for a moment, he seemed disappointed.

“Morning, Tiggy,” I said, not letting my amusement show through.

He snapped out of whatever thought was passing through his mind and pulled me into a hug, seeming a little dazed.

“Morning, darlin’,” he said distantly.

Chibs removed his gloves and clapped his hands together loudly.

“Table,” he ordered.

The guys exchanged confused glances as Chibs walked inside. I began to walk, and they followed. Oh, this was definitely a very evil prank.

At the table, Chibs started church as usual. The money situation was always first. Get that shit out of the way. Then, it was on to current issues. Business with Red Woody and Diosa first, new ways to make legitimate money, and of course, our issue with L. However, Chibs brought up the Freak Riders first.

“We need to get a call out to them. See if they can track down that bastard Hanes,” Chibs said bitterly.

“You think he ran back south?” Happy asked.

“Be stupid to stay here,” Tig said, “We got the Mayans and the Bastards looking for him.”

“He has no protection unless he gangs up with the Riders, or the guys in Vegas,” I said.

Tig absently moved his index finger ring with his thumb.

“You think he ran to Vegas?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“No idea,” I replied.

“Well, we need the Riders on top of him. Have them deliver that scumbag animal to us,” Chibs said sternly.

“Absolutely,” Rane agreed.

“What about these Vegas guys?” Rat asked, “The Freak Riders sided with us because of Callie. Will it be that easy to nab the other club?”

“They’ll most likely cut ties. No club means no business. They’re not getting their cars, they’ll wipe their hands of the club if they haven’t already. They can’t do business with L going solo, anyway. No security. Besides, they were in bed with Shane. With Shane gone, there’s no way they’ll work with L.”

Chibs nodded.

“Like that bastard O’ Shay,” he said.

I cast him a confused look. Who?

“IRA member we did business with,” Tig explained.

“Oh!” I replied.

“Would only do business with Clay. Refused to cooperate with Jax. Blew up our clubhouse,” Chibs snarled.

I gritted my teeth. Damn!

“So, we reach out to Milo?” Tig asked.

Chibs nodded.

“Get a 20 on Hanes. If he’s in SoCal, we take a roadtrip. I don’t want these guys tryin’ to haul him here. Long drive. Too much time and too many chances for somethin’ to go wrong,” Chibs said.

“What happens when they deliver?” Rat asked.

Chibs smiled at that.

“Callie girl is gonna take him out, and I think we should consider makin’ the Freak Riders Sons,” he said.

The guys looked up in surprise.

“Patch over?” Tig asked excitedly.

Chibs held a finger up.

“ _If_ they deliver. Still buildin’ trust here, Tiggy,” he replied.

“Well, I want to see the little one rip this guy’s goddamn arms off,” T.O. said.

I frowned at that.

“Yeah, Cal,” Happy agreed, “You beat the shit out of him.”

“Can’t I just shoot him?” I asked.

L. Hanes was not very tall. Around Juice’s height. It was his fighting skills that were a problem. He was trained, and had the reflexes of a cat. Even Shane, as ripped as he was, had a hard time taking him. The man was a black belt. I had not stood a chance the first time. How the fuck would I be able to do it now?

“You blow his brains out, love,” Chibs said.

Tig shot Chibs a glare. Chibs looked confused, but neither said anything. Tig was still lost by our prank, and with neither of us saying anything about the proposal, yet still obviously getting along, it was eating away at him.

“Let’s throw Callie in the ring,” Tig said.

I shuddered. Chibs didn’t look phased.

“Ya wanna train her?” he asked.

I felt my jaw drop.

“What?” I asked, my voice cracking.

Rat laughed at me.

“Yeah,” Tig replied.

Chibs shot me a look and raised an eyebrow at me.

“What do ya think, sweetheart?” he asked, “I trained one of our Prospects. Best boxer we had.”

“Yeah, until he got us in the hole,” Tig growled.

“It’d be an unfair fight,” Happy said, “You won’t hit her.”

Chibs bit his bottom lip.

“And I’m not going to hit you, Chibs,” I said.

Unless he did something to deserve it, I wouldn’t dare.

“I can take a punch, love.”

“Let’s go outside,” Tig said, slamming his hands on the table, “I’ll train her. If she can take me, she can take anyone she needs to.”

I just stared at him.

“You want me to hit you?” I asked in disbelief.

“Cocky prick,” Happy snapped to Tig.

“Nah,” he said, a sly smile appearing on his lips, “I want you to beat the shit out of me.”

I looked from him to Chibs, not sure what to say.

“You can take him, Cal,” Happy said.

I smirked. This could be interesting…

“Fine,” I said to Tig, “You’re on.”

Chibs grinned and slammed the gavel down. Tig and I shot of our seats. T.O. clapped his heads on my shoulder.

“You got this! Confidence, Callie! Confidence!” he said.

I laughed and followed Tig out the door. The guys excited surrounded the ring as we climbed in. Chibs stood closest to me.

“Take him out,” he said.

“You sure you wanna do this, Pop?” Rat asked Tig.

Tig looked down at him.

“If she takes you down, how are you going to explain how the Prez’s Old Lady pounded you to the ground?” he continued.

“Would you just shut up?” Tig snapped, then turned to me, “Come here, Callie.”

I approached Tig, sizing him as I stepped in front of him. We pulled our cuts and gun holsters from our shoulders and tossed them to whoever caught them. Chibs caught mine, and Rat, Tig’s. Tig pulled the many rings his wore from his fingers, leaving only his identical leather cuffs on.

“Okay, baby girl. There are ways you can take a full-grown man. Especially me. I’m a big guy. But look. It’s all about strategy. You have to know where the hands are at all times. You have to locate escape routes and avoid any kind of leverage. I could do this,” Tig raised his hand, put it on my forehead, and pushed against me at arm’s length, “See? There’s no way. Even if you kicked me, I could grab your leg. You can’t push me. You have to find another way. What do you do?”

I dropped out of his hand and rolled, quickly hopping up on his left. He raised his eyebrows.

“That works. What if I had a grip on you? Or a weapon?” he asked.

I watched as he approach me and wrapped his hand around my neck, just holding it without applying pressure.

“If I keep you at arm’s length and you’re up against a wall, you have no way out,” he said.

I nodded.

“This is how L got me,” I said.

He nodded.

“And if I want you down, all I’d have to do is swing and punch you in the gut. Knock the air out of you, and it will allow me enough time to pummel you. Now, you have to pay attention to my hands. And look. Your hands are free. My next move in the stomach. What are you going to do? Don’t tell me. Just do it. Don’t worry if you hurt me or not.”

I quickly studied him, remembering my fingers and hunting for a weak spot. Throat. No. I could punch him in the nose, but I had a better idea.

“I come in, swing towards you,” he said, slowly swinging his arm in.

I split my index and middle fingers, jamming them in his eyes. Tig howled and grabbed his face. Now doubled over, I kneed him in the crotch, and just like that, he was down. The guys began hollering, and Chibs’ was laughing so hard that no sound come from his mouth. Tig moaned and rolled onto his back grabbing himself. I got down, threw him onto his stomach, jumped on his back to control his center of gravity, grabbed a fistful of hair, yanked his head back.

“Then, I’d smash your face in,” I said.

“Yeah. Okay. I get it. Let me recover, sweetheart,” he grunted.

I smiled and hopped up. Chibs climbed up the side of the ring and reached his arm out. I smiled and walked up to hug him.

“That’s my girl,” he said.

I smiled and his lips crashed against mine. I wasn’t sure if the sudden kiss was out of excitement, to worsen the prank, or both, but my boost in confidence and my rushing adrenaline made me want to yank his ass in the ring.  
Tig carefully stood to his feet, keeping his legs spread. I looked to him and smiled.

“You had enough?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“We have some more to cover,” he said breathlessly.

I walked back over to him, Chibs patting my back as we parted.

“Just don’t bruise my fiancé,” he said.

Tig nodded. I saw Rat’s eyes widen and his snap over to Chibs. It didn’t even register with Tig until a few seconds later. He looked up at Chibs, then to me.

“Your what?” he snapped.

Chibs fished through the pockets of my cut and produced the engagement ring. Tig stomped his foot angrily.

“You motherfuckers!” he shouted and looked down at me, “You said yes?”

I smiled and nodded. Tig looked ready to kill us.

“Come here, Chibby,” he ordered.

Chibs smiled and slipped into the ring. Tig held an arm out and pulled us both into a hug.

“You two scared the shit out of me,” he said.

Chibs and I laughed.

“We’re just fuckin’ with ya, Tiggy,” Chibs said.

I looked up at Tig.

“Did you honestly think I would say no?” I asked.

Tig’s arm tightened around me.

“No, but you two weren’t being gross and I got scared,” he admitted.

Chibs laughed.

“You got scared?” he asked, hiking that eyebrow up.

Tig smiled softly and looked between us.

“Callie, this bastard has been pining after you. He’s been so lovesick, it’s sad, but seeing you two together, as if you were meant to be…I think I told Chibby this, but you two are soul mates. Neither of you are complete without the other. I thought he might have spooked you with a ring,” he explained.

I smiled.

“No here was spooked except you,” I teased.

Tig smiled and hugged us to him, kissing Chibs’ cheek and my forehead. The rest of the club jumped into the ring, congratulating and hugging us.

“Put that ring on her, brother!” Rane said loudly, clapping his hand on our Prez’s shoulder.

Chibs smiled warmly and held the ring up. I let him take my hand and he slipped the ring back on its finger, my hand no longer feeling so naked. The boys erupted, Rat tossing an arm around my shoulders, all of them surrounding us and a large group hug.

“Now we just gotta tell Venus,” Tig said.

I laughed.

“She’s going to shit!” I said.

Tig laughed.

“Well, tonight. All of you. Brooke, too, Rat. We’re having a steak dinner tonight at my place. All of you fucking be there. Celebrate the engagement of these two,” he said.

The guys erupted again, like the sound of the promise of food. However, I couldn’t take one step without one of my brothers hugging me.

Tiggy and I worked a little bit more as the morning wore on. He and Chibs had some helpful tips that I hoped and prayed I would remember in the moment. Afterwards, Tig and I relaxed on the picnic table, drinking water and messing around before I decided to go in to the air conditioning. As I stepped up to the door, a certain thought flew into my head.  
We had been discussing the wedding, which as of right now, was nothing more than a few unorganized ideas. My mind kept flying back to Brooke and Rat’s wedding, and the look on Mr. Putner’s face when he saw his daughter in her wedding dress. It reminded me that my parents would not be at mine, and even though I had been used to the idea at one time, it hurt to think about now. My mom would not be there to fuss over my hair and makeup and while crying all of her makeup off. My dad wouldn’t be there to give me away. Some stupid thugs took that from me. They weren’t there for prom, my graduation, to see me get my first car, then my bike. Of course, Chibs’ parents were gone, too, and I’m sure had to even been there to witness his wedding to Fiona. It was just a little bit different for the bride, though. I hadn’t even thought about it until now.  
I turned around to see Tig blowing a cloud of smoke in the air, not paying attention. I straightened and walked back to him.

“Hey,” I said.

He looked up at me. I sat down beside him.

“I don’t know what Chibs has planned for this, if he has any plans at all. I’m sure he’ll want you as his best man.”

Tig nodded.

“Probably,” he replied.

I locked my eyes with Tig’s. I saw him in several different lights. One of my best friends. One of the only people I would go to with stuff that I couldn’t tell Chibs. Shoulder to cry on. My brother in a club sense, but Rat and I both saw him as a father figure. Albeit, one who was out of his mind, but we didn’t lovingly tease him and call him “Pops” for nothing. He loved us like his own, and that was the beauty of this club. All of us were either siblings or the kids. Rat and I often called Venus Mom. Chibs and the rest of the club who grew up around Gemma, however, did not, but they still adored her. We were one big family.

“Can ask you do me a favor?” I asked.

Tig nodded and put an arm around my shoulders.

“Sure,” he replied.

I wrung my hands nervously.

“Walk me down the aisle?” I asked.

Tig’s eyes widened and he turned fully to me. He was speechless for a moment. Suddenly, I was swept up into a bone-crushing hug.

“Absolutely, baby girl. Absolutely,” he said.

I smiled. Tig shook a little, and when I pulled back, he had tears in his eyes for the second time today—just not from me jabbing them. He cupped my face and kissed my forehead.

“You bet I will,” he whispered.

I kissed his cheek before standing.

“Thank-you, Tiggy,” I said.

He smiled.

“Anything for you and Chibby,” he said.

I smiled and he took my hand.

“Let’s go in and cool off. Get some lunch,” he suggested.

With that, we walked inside and joined Chibs on the couch to cool off, discuss some club stuff, and enjoy a day of normalcy.

***

Venus had a knack for decorating. Maybe she was just very in tune with her inner female, but she seemed to have an eye for it. Rat and Brooke’s wedding, her and Tig’s home, and tonight, their backyard. The beginning of summer backyard party was beautiful—to beautiful for a bunch of grungy, tough bikers. Some, if not all of us looked out of place. Venus had set up tables, Tig had the grill going, and tables and chairs set up for us under clear strings of garden lights. It was quite relaxing, and the whole club seemed to be in a good mood.  
Brooke and I were inside the house with Venus, helping bring some items outside.

“I can take more,” Brooke offered.

“Honey, you don’t need to be carrying any more than you have to,” Venus said.

Brooke held up the package of dinner rolls, which I’m sure weighed less than a pound.

“These are just rolls, Venus,” she said.

“Baby, you are six months pregnant. You just worry about you,” she said.

Brooke sighed and looked to me.

“I’m not helpless,” she said.

I smiled.

“Be glad you don’t have to help,” I said, and picked up an aluminum tray.

Brooke smiled, but her face suddenly changed and she looked down at her stomach. I watched her worriedly.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

She smiled.

“Nothing. He’s just doing backflips,” she said.

Venus perked up at that.

“Oooh! May I feel?” she asked.

Brooke smiled and nodded. I watched as Venus touched Brooke’s stomach. Beneath her shirt, little bumps appeared and disappeared as Felix performed his acrobatics. I cringed.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” I asked.

Brooke shook her head.

“Occasionally he’ll get a foot in my ribs, but other than that, it just, you know, feels like something dancing inside you,” she replied.

I just shivered.

“Oh, Callie! Come feel this,” Venus said excitedly.

I bit my lip. I really didn’t want to.

“Right here,” Brooke said.

I shyly reached a hand up, touching the spot she had pointed to. I felt something move beneath my fingers and instantly recoiled. Brooke laughed at me.

“That’s so weird,” I said.

Brooke laughed. Venus patted her stomach and returned to preparing the food.

“How is Rat doing with all of this?” I asked.

Brooke smoothed her shirt down and smiled.

“Surprisingly, really good. Some stuff still weirds him out, but I think when the baby comes, it’ll click for him,” she replied.

I nodded in agreement.

“It probably will. That’s what instincts are for,” I said.

Brooke nodded.

“How have you guys been doing since the wedding?” I asked.

Brooke smiled shyly.

“We’re really happy,” she replied.

I smiled.

“That’s good,” I said.

“What about you and Chibs? How have things been between you guys? I know you guys had it rough after the attack.”

I shrugged and smiled, pushing my hands into my jean pockets.

“We’re doing really good,” I replied.

Venus reached into the cabinet above my head to put a box away.

“That man treats her like a queen,” she said to Brooke, “Rat has some learning to do, but SAMCRO men? They treat their Old Ladies right.”

Brooke smiled.

“Rat doesn’t like to do anything romantic or anything,” she said.

“None of them do,” I reassured her.

“Alexander is the only one. He does the dating thing, but you have to get a little more creative with the others,” Venus said.

“Like what?” Brooke asked.

“Oh, they’ll surprise you,” I said, making both women laugh, “Just spend time with him. I’ve found that they think nothing is sexier than showing their Old Lady off. Especially when they ride on their bikes with them. Of course, it’ll be a few months before you can do that again.”

Brooke smiled.

“Oh, that is the sexiest damn thing,” Venus agreed.

“Chibs doesn’t do the romantic dinner thing? Movies?” she asked.

I reached for a bag of potato chips and handed them to her.

“We watch movies together sometimes. Eat together. He finds special little things that he thinks are romantic, other than the bedroom. I’m sure Rat has some of those little things he likes to do,” I said.

Brooke shrugged. Venus handed me the last of the food.

“Well, I’ll have Alexander talk to him. You’re carrying his child. He should be worshipping you,” Venus said.

Brooke nodded.

“Come on, girls. Let’s see if the boys are ready.”

Brooke and I followed Venus through the house and out to the back porch. The backyard smelled heavenly and my stomach growled loudly when the aroma of grilling meat and charcoal flew up my nose. Chibs and my brothers surrounded Tig at the grill as he carried a tray stacked with meat away to the buffet.

“Alright, guys! Grab a plate. Ladies first,” Tig announced.

Brooke and I joined the women in attendance. I brought up the rear, letting Brooke go before me. As I waited in line, a pair of arms wrapped around my waist. I smiled and looked up to see Chibs.

“Hi, baby,” I said softly.

Chibs kissed my forehead.

“Hello, lovely,” he said happily, “When do ya think we should break the news to Venus?”

I laughed.

“Whenever you want to,” I replied.

Chibs chuckled and squeezed me before letting go so we could grab our plates. As I piled food on mine, my arms were screaming in pain. Guess I had more of a workout than I thought.

“God, my arms are sore,” I said.

Brooke turned to me and laughed.

“What’d you do?” she asked.

“She beat the shit out of Tiggy,” Chibs replied.

Brooke’s jaw dropped. I shrugged.

“All in the name of love,” I replied.

She laughed and finished filling her plate. Chibs squeezed my arm.

“You’re gonna have some serious guns if ya keep up your trainin’,” he said.

I snorted.

“Yeah, then I’ll get you in the ring,” I said.

I finished getting my food and spun around to wait for him. He smiled and kissed me as he reached for a ladle.

“I like the sound of that,” he said lowly.

I smiled and shook my head, even though I thoroughly agreed.

During dinner, the majority of the conversation surrounded Brooke and Rat. I sat between Hap and Chibs, Tig at the head of the table and Venus to his left. Tig shifted uncomfortably in his chair and Chibs snickered.

“What is the matter with you, Alex? Did you hurt your leg? You’ve been limping since you got home,” Venus said.

Tig gritted his teeth. Chibs and I looked at each other and grinned.

“Not his leg,” Chibs said.

Venus stared at him.

“Oh, Jesus. What did you boys get into it over this time?” she asked.

“Wasn’t us,” Happy said.

Tig sighed.

“I was helping Callie with some fight moves in the ring,” he said.

“Dropped him like sack of potatoes,” Rat said.

“It was beautiful!” Chibs said enthusiastically.

Venus rolled her eyes before her eyes fell on me.

“You are just as rough as the boys,” she said.

I smiled.

“Gotta be tough to roll with these guys,” I reminded her.

She just smiled and returned to her food.

“Just don’t ever catch Cal with her boots on,” Tig grunted.

I cast a glance at Tig and frowned.

“You okay?” I asked.

He nodded.

“I hit a speed bump on the way home,” he replied.

Chibs was taking a drink of his beer and snorted. Venus patted Tig’s arm.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she said.

Chibs leaned down to my ear.

“I’m sure she’ll make it better for him,” he said.

I bit my lip and nudged him away, trying not to laugh. Chibs picked at the last of his food. I looked around the yard and observed the lights and flowers, Venus’ beautiful decorating skills giving me an idea.

“Hey, Vee? You did a wonderful job out here. This is beautiful,” I said.

Venus smiled and wiped her mouth.

“Thank-you, baby,” she replied.

“You ever think of becoming a party decorator? Do proms and weddings and stuff?” I asked.

Venus looked up in thought.

“You know, baby, I’ve never thought about that. Might be fun. I enjoyed helping with Rat and Brooke’s wedding,” she said.

“And you did a beautiful job,” Brooke said.

Venus smiled.

“Thank-you, sugar.”

I fiddled with the engagement ring. Chibs looked down at me and raised his eyebrow, silently asking if I was going to say something. I just smiled at him.

“Would you do ours?” I asked.

Venus nearly choked and her eyes bugged out.

“Excuse me?”

I smiled and held my hand up. She covered her mouth with her hand.

“Filip, you proposed?” she asked in astonishment.

Chibs nodded. Venus squealed, shot up from her chair, and moved around the table to hug us.

“Oh, my sweet babies are gonna get married!” she gushed.

Chibs and I put an arm around her. Venus removed the arm that was around my shoulders and waved her face.

“Oh, don’t cry. Don’t cry,” she said to herself.

Chibs and I smiled up at her.

“When did you propose, Filip?” she asked.

“Last night,” he replied.

Venus sighed and kissed us both on the cheek.

“I am so happy for you two. And of course, I’ll decorate for you, baby,” she said to me, “Anything you need, you just come to me.”

“Thank-you, darlin’,” Chibs said.

Venus held her hands out to me.

“Can I see?” she asked.

I held my right hand up and she observed the ring, immediately gushing.

“Oh, goodness. Callie’s that’s gorgeous! Filip, you picked a beautiful ring, sweetheart,” she said.

Chibs smiled.

“When is the wedding?” she asked.

Chibs looked up at her as I lowered my hand.

“No date yet,” he said.

“Well, as soon as you guys get things sorted, let me know. We’ll get everything on track for the big day. You two won’t have to worry about a thing,” she said.

Chibs and I smiled and thanked her. She returned to her seat and Tig stood holding his beer in the air.

“Let’s toast,” he said.

The entire table held their drinks in the air. Tig smiled down at us.

“To the King, and future queen of SAMCRO,” he said.

The table erupted and everyone toasted. I looked from them to Chibs and smiled. He smiled warmly and leaned over to kiss me.

“I love you,” he said softly.

I smiled.

“I love you, too.”

The rest of the dinner consisted of nothing but the exchange of wedding ideas, and some particularly outrageous bachelor party ideas between the boys. Chibs reached down and held my hand under the table. I smiled and squeezed his hand.

***

The next few days were spent discussing wedding details, and unfortunately, having to separate ourselves from the club. We were grateful for all of the support and welcomed their ideas, but Chibs and I decided we wanted to decide what we wanted for ourselves. We talked about locations, what sort of traditional things we wanted and what we could do without. We decided on getting married in our cuts. That was the first thing, and pretty much went without saying. Chibs teased me about the dress, but out of all of the formal wear and prom dresses and all that other bullshit, this one meant something. I would definitely wear a wedding dress to my own wedding, and already had the style picked out. Chibs was going to wear a similar outfit to what he wore to Rat’s wedding. A nice, black dress shirt. He mentioned he would more than likely go out and buy a new one, as the button up he wore all the time was faded, and simply not formal enough. He actually surprised me with his idea for what to wear. The men of SAMCRO didn’t wear tuxes to weddings, and back in the day, only replaced their normal outfit with a bowtie, but Chibs had other ideas. He was playing around with the idea of a black suit vest and dark navy blue tie, keeping the club’s color scheme. He would wear his cut over that, his SAMCRO belt, and just for me, the black jeans that I liked.  
With his outfit already set in place I worked on ideas for my dress, as well as people we would invite while shopping online for dresses and shoes. Chibs had an old laptop that was outdated, slow as hell to start up, but his Internet was sufficient, and I spent all morning at the kitchen table researching. My dress hunt came up short, as I felt like shopping would be easier in person. So, I moved on to researching weddings in general when Chibs shot into the kitchen, cell phone stuck to his ear.

“Callie, quick. I’m on hold. Did you have an idea for a location?” he asked.

I shook my head. I knew I didn’t want the Wahewa Reservation. It was a nice location, but I felt like it wasn’t for us.

“Do ya still like the idea of gettin’ married outside. In front of a castle or an old hotel?” he asked.

I stared at him in disbelief. I couldn’t believe he remembered that!

“Well, yeah, but we don’t have to. That’s just wishful thinking on my end,” I said.

“But you would like to?” he asked.

“Yeah. That’s like, my dream spot,” I said.

He nodded and whoever he was on hold with answered. He slipped back down the hall, leaving me to stare after him. Surely he hadn’t found a place already…right?

Around 10 minutes later, he returned, breathless with a huge smile on his face.

“Google Inverlochy Castle Hotel,” he said.

I clicked off of my wedding research and logged on to Google.

“How do you spell it?” I asked.

Chibs spelled the name for me, and I typed it in and pressed Enter. Google brought up a handful of pictures, Wikipedia articles and the hotel’s official website. Chibs walked around the table to watch over my shoulder. I clicked on the first picture, bringing up a gorgeous picture of a castle-like structure behind a lake, surrounding in lush greenery and tall mountains in the background.

“Where’s this at? Colorado?” I asked.

Chibs snorted.

“No,” he laughed.

“Well, it’s beautiful. Where is it?” I asked.

Chibs dodged the question.

“How would ya like to get married there?” he asked.

I smiled.

“That would amazing,” I replied.

“Well, it’s in Scotland,” he said.

I let my shoulders sag, bummed. Of course.

“Just outside of Fort William,” he continued.

I clicked through the pictures. It really was gorgeous. Against the mountains, it looked like something out of a fantasy movie. Chibs sat down beside me and put an arm around my waist.

“They had one opening. We got it,” he said.

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“What?” I exclaimed.

He smiled and cast a glance at the pictures.

“They had a wedding block cancelled just as I called. Locked it down. We have a suite, and enough rooms reserved for the club and a few friends. The hotel takes care of food and seating. We can get the cake and music taken care of later.”

My jaw was on the floor.

“You…you set everything?” I asked.

He smiled.

“Locked down and ready to go. We get what we can taken care of stateside, then finish up in Scotland. We’ll be there for two weeks. First week with everyone. Second week with just us. Wedding and honeymoon all in one. Perfect vacation,” he said.

I just shook my head. I had always, always wanted to travel to the UK. I was always drawn to England and France, but I seeing Scotland had never seemed possible. Besides, getting married in this beautiful hotel, seeing where my fiancé had come from—his world. I was blown away!

“You are unbelievable! We’re actually getting married here?” I asked, pointing to the laptop screen.

Chibs smiled lovingly and kissed me.

“Aye,” he whispered.

I let out a shaky breath. This had been way beyond my expectations.

“When?” I asked.

“Last week of July. We’ll fly out on the 29th, lock things down. Wedding date will be the first of August.”

I stared at him in horror.

“Filip, that’s just a little over a month. Can we get everything done by then?” I asked.

Chibs took a deep breath.

“We can do it,” he said, “I have the rooms already reserved between the 29th and the 5th of August, and our suite is reserved until the mornin’ of August 12th. I’m gonna to try and get the plane tickets for everyone. Get that locked down next. Might have to bend around the dates, but that’s why I we’re arrivin’ three days ahead of time. If we have to get there earlier and stay in another hotel for awhile, that’s fine. We just gotta get everyone on board now. Callin’ in an emergency meetin’ in the mornin’ so we can get everyone on board. Figure out travel plans. All that.”

I sighed heavily and glanced back at the laptop. It was still unreal to me. I was getting married to this wonderful Scotsman…in Scotland!

“You’re amazing,” I said.

He smiled, dimples appearing in his cheeks.

“All for you, my love,” he said.

I smiled and put my arms around his neck.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” I said.

Chibs kissed me gently. I blindly closed the laptop and entwined my fingers in his hair. I needed to properly thank him. Planning could wait for an hour or so. I wanted to be with my wonderful Old Man for a little while.


	43. Save the Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING

My brothers’ screams could be heard throughout the clubhouse, and I’m sure anyone outside could hear them, as well.  
  
“WE’RE GOING TO SCOTLAND!”  
  
“Easy, easy!” Chibs shouted, “Sit down!”  
  
We took our seats at the table. Chibs walked up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders.  
  
“You have a date set?” Tig asked.  
  
We nodded.  
  
“August 1st. Rooms are payed for. If anyone extra comes, we’ll pay for their rooms if we can get one,” Chibs replied.  
  
“That’s not that far off, brother,” Rane said.  
  
“Aye,” Chibs agreed.  
  
“That’s why we’re going to need all the help we can get,” I said.  
  
“Absolutely,” Happy said.  
  
Chibs squeezed my shoulders.  
  
“This was our only window to get a spot. Otherwise, we might have to wait well into next year, and who knows where we’ll be with the club by then,” he said.  
  
The guys nodded.  
  
“What do you need us to do, Chibby?” Tig asked.  
  
Chibs moved to sit at the head of the table.  
  
“Well, like I said. Rooms are paid for, as is the venue. Seatin’ and caterin’ have been taken care of,” he replied.  
  
“And money-wise, we’re good,” I said.  
  
Chibs nodded in agreement.  
  
“The weddin’ won’t be a large event. A small ceremony in the garden, weather permittin’.”  
  
“But we need to get the plane tickets locked down ASAP,” I said.  
  
“We’re going commercial?” Happy asked.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“I hold no weight with Oswald, and I’m sure as shit not flyin’ for 17 hours in a cargo plane with nothin’ underneath my ass except a bench. Tha’s not happen’. I’m clear to fly. Callie as well. We want all of ya there with us, so long as it’s legal for ya,” he said.  
  
“We’re there, brother,” Rane said.  
  
The rest of the guys nodded.  
  
“You’re all clear?” Chibs asked.  
  
They nodded again.  
  
“I gotta check on that,” Tig said, looking up at the ceiling.  
  
I stared at Tig in horror.  
  
“Tig, you need to get that locked down,” I said.  
  
I could resort to a small ceremony in front of a justice of the peace in Charming if Tig couldn’t go, but I was not going to Scotland without him.  
Tig ruffled my hair.  
  
“I will. We can go talk to Jarry later. See if she’ll check my records for me,” he said.  
  
Chibs nodded. He stood and grabbed a notebook from the bookshelf, pulling the ink pen from the spiral.  
  
“Let me write everyone’s name down who’s goin’,” he said.  
  
“Me and Venus,” Tig said.  
  
“The whole table,” Rat said.  
  
Chibs quickly scribbled everyone’s names down.  
  
“Any guests?” Chibs asked.  
  
“My Old Lady would probably come,” Rane said.  
  
“Mine, too,” T.O. said.  
  
I looked to Rat.  
  
“Brooke doesn’t need to be flying. Not that far, anyway,” I said.  
  
Rat nodded.  
  
“She’ll stay with her dad,” he said.  
  
“She’ll be supervised, then?” Chibs asked.  
  
Rat nodded.  
  
“Alright. I also want to see if Chucky will come. He’s always a big help, and he deserves a break,” Chibs said.  
  
“Agreed,” Tig said.  
  
“He good to fly? All clear?” Hap asked.  
  
“Should be,” Tig replied.  
  
“Rat, go out and ask him. See if he wants to go,” Chibs said.  
  
Rat nodded and stood from the table.  
  
“Who’s gonna run things here?” Montez asked.  
  
“The mechanics,” Chibs said, scribbling notes, “They can handle it for a week.”  
  
The guys nodded.  
  
“Okay. Tiggy, get your shit set. Everyone get you shit set and I’ll get the tickets. Get your answers to me by tonight,” he said.  
  
The guys agreed.  
  
“Okay. We have the venue and rooms. I’m gonna take care of the officiant. Caterin’s taken care of. So, Callie, remind me to get on the florist and music. Do we want a photographer?” he asked.  
  
“My Old Lady is an amazing photographer,” T.O. spoke up.  
  
Chibs pointed a finger at T.O.  
  
“Ya think she’ll do it?” he asked.  
  
T.O. nodded.  
  
“Oh, hell yeah, brother,” he said.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“Did ya want pictures done, love?” he asked me.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Oh yeah,” I replied.  
  
“I’ll get it set with her tonight and call you,” T.O. said to Chibs.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“Okay. Tiggy, Venus needs to help Callie get her dress set. That needs to happen by like, tomorrow,” he said.  
  
Tig and I nodded.  
  
“On it,” I said, “And give me your list. I’ll go pick up your clothes.”  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“Who do you want as your groomsmen, Chibby?” Tig asked.  
  
Chibs glanced up at me.  
  
“Depends on who’s in the Queen’s court,” he said.  
  
I chewed my bottom lip. I knew only a mere handful of women in Charming, and since Wendy moved, the only women around were Vee and Brooke. Of course, there were the guys’ current girlfriends and T.O.’s wife, but I had never met them.  
  
“Well, Tiggy’s walking me down the aisle. Brooke’s not going to be able to go, so I guess I just have one. Venus,” I said.  
  
“And I wanted Tiggy as my best man,” Chibs said.  
  
I laughed and yanked Tig into a hug.  
  
“And now they’re fighting,” Tig said, rolling his eyes.  
  
“I called him first!” I mock cried.  
  
Chibs grinned.  
  
“You’ll just have to split jobs,” he said, “Does Venus know she’ll be the only bridesmaid, Callie girl?”  
  
“She will,” I said.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“Okay, then we’ll just have one for each side. The rest of ya get a break,” he said.  
  
“We promise, boss. We won’t sit there a make fun of you,” Rane said.  
  
Chibs rolled his eyes.  
  
“Right. Liar!”  
  
We laughed at that.  
  
“Okay. So, Tiggy, wear your best. All of ya wear your best, but Tiggy, you’re in black. Navy blue tie,” Chibs said.  
  
Tig nodded.  
  
“Check,” he said.  
  
“Venus will need a dress that matches,” I said, “Same navy blue.”  
  
Tig nodded again. Rat reentered and confirmed that Chucky did indeed want to go.  
  
“Are you guys going to register?” he asked as he took his seat.  
  
Chibs and I shook our heads.  
  
“Nah, but I’ll be expectin’ weddin’ gifts from all of ya motherfuckers,” he said.  
  
The guys grinned and Happy clapped a hand on Chibs’ shoulder.  
  
“On it,” he said.  
  
“Alright, so we’re not doin’ invitations or any shit like that. I have to book Friday night for rehearsals and get the cake. Callie and I will discuss that tonight. I need everyone to call me by tonight to confirm they’e goin’ so I can get tickets. All of ya make sure ya have enough clothing for a week. Get all of that shit ready. Flight friendly shit. None of ya, and I mean NONE of ya even think about wearing a lot of metal, bringin’ any drugs and absolutely no alcohol or weapons. Ya understand?”  
  
The guys nodded.  
  
“Bring your cuts. Take the pins out. We don’t need any fuss in security. Do not wear any colors until the weddin’ night. Understood?”  
  
They nodded again.  
  
“Callie, we need to get the rings. We’ll go do that today, and some time between then and now, grab a marriage license,” Chibs said.  
  
I nodded. Chibs looked over our brothers.  
  
“This means a lot to Callie and I. I know it’s such a short time, but I ask that you help make this work,” he said.  
  
“Hey,” Tig said, reaching over to take Chibs’ hand, then took mine, “Whatever you two need, we’re here, brother.”  
  
“Yeah, don’t worry about a thing. We’ll get everything handled before the day comes. Just let us know,” Happy said.  
  
Chibs and I smiled and thanked our brothers. We discussed things a little bit more before ending church.  
Chibs and I walked out to the picnic tables so he could have a smoke. He sat down on a bench, lit up, then smiled up at me and patted his lap. I smiled and sat on his lap, draping an arm around his shoulders.  
  
“You think we bit off more than we can chew?” I asked.  
  
He smiled up at me. He tightened his arms around my waist and kissed me softly.  
  
“Nah. We got this,” he said.  
  
I sighed and laid my cheek on his head. We weren’t trying to make a big wedding, and had cut out a lot of the bullshit to make it easier, but I couldn’t help but worry. Trying to get things settled over the phone and get it set before we flew in. The travel arrangements. And God forbid Tig still had something outstanding that prevented him from going.  
Chibs finished off his cigarette and took my hand. I smiled and entwined my fingers with his. Maybe he was right.  
  
We got this.  
  
***  
  
I was floating around the laptop that night while Chibs was on the phone, getting confirmation from everyone so we could get our plane tickets purchased. So far, we had everyone from the club, T.O.’s Old Lady, who was also hired to do the wedding photos. I was deep in the Internet, researching everything when I typed in “Weddings in Scotland.” From that point, I was absorbed in ancient tradition and history. Everything from food to castles and bagpipes, to all the tweed and tartan anyone could ever ask for. Some of it did become a little out-there for me. The wedding dresses of tartan, though interesting, were a little too much for me. Many pictures were of the groom in a kilt, but again, I could not see my Scotsman doing that. However, there were many beautiful wedding bands engraved with Celtic knots, not unlike the bands we had picked out today. But there was one more thing that caught my eye, and after watching a few ceremonies, I wanted to do it, too.  
Chibs entered the living room, hopping down from the step and happily snapping his phone shut, snacking on a bag of peanuts.  
  
“Alright. I just got our flights organized,” he said.  
  
I looked up from the laptop from my spot on the couch. He picked my legs up and sat down in their place, putting my legs across his lap.  
  
“Tickets for 12. We’re leaving on the 28th instead. We need to be in Oakland at four in the morning. Flight’s at 7:00. We fly to JFK, connect to our flight to Edinburgh, then I have organized transport from the hotel to pick us up,” he said, tapping hyper hands on my legs.  
  
“They have chauffeur service?” I asked.  
  
He nodded. I smiled.  
  
“How much is that going to cost?” I asked.  
  
He shrugged.  
  
“Dunno. Get the bill for that next week,” he said.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Let me pay for that, baby. Tickets, too,” I said.  
  
“No,” he replied stubbornly.  
  
I closed the laptop and set it on the coffee table, then sat up and stroked his cheek.  
  
“You’re not paying for all of it,” I said sternly.  
  
He smiled.  
  
“Not even married and we’re already fightin’ over money,” he said jokingly.  
  
I laughed.  
  
“We’ve _been_ doing that,” I said.  
  
He laughed and leaned over to peck my lips.  
  
“Tiggy’s clear,” he said.  
  
I gasped.  
  
“Holy shit! When did he tell you?” I asked.  
  
“Called just before I ordered the tickets. Him and Quinn went to talk to Jarry. Everythin’s golden. All that’s left,” he said, looking down to take my hands, “Are the rings, which we pick up tomorrow, dresses, my shit, and I’ll work on lockin’ down as much as I can with the hotel. Then, we pack for our wedding and our honeymoon.”  
  
I smiled as he left my knuckles to his lips and kissed them.  
  
“You make it sound so easy.  
  
Chibs smiled.  
  
“Aye. ‘Cause it is. People wrap up too much bullshit into weddin’s. We don’t need all that. Hell, I think rehearsals and caterin’ alone are already too much, but this is a celebration. I want it to be special. Besides,” he said, tucking my hair behind my ear and watching me with loving eyes, “ya ain’t a bridezilla.”  
  
I laughed at that.  
  
“No, I don’t think so,” I agreed.  
  
The location. The dress. The everything else. None of that truly mattered. Yes, I would be disappointed should something get fucked up and we couldn’t go to Scotland, but the only thing I would really be upset over, Scotland or not, would be the absence of one or more of my brothers. If Tig was unable to go, I would, unfortunately and very remorsefully, ask Chibs to cancel everything. I wasn’t walking without him. However, since he was, everything was in the green. Of course, between now and the day of, there were a million chances for things to go wrong, and we had to stay on top of it. Keep tabs on the services in Scotland, check and double check to make sure the rings are perfect, the dress is perfect, his formal wear was perfect. Check and double check the travel plans. Make sure none of us get arrested or sick between now and then, and keep our options open in case we have to bend. I didn’t hold my hopes up too high for this wedding. I kept my mind level, even though, financially, I had the option to blow this thing sky-high. I had learned from Chibs, and from working with SAMCRO on how to keep my head on straight. Focus on what’s important. What was important here was Chibs. Just him being able to be there, happy and healthy, was all I wanted. A promise of a secure future. Our lives were volatile, but I wanted to at least know that on August 1st, when I say “I do” to him, our lives at that point were as golden as could possibly be.  
  
“So long as you’re not a groomzilla,” I said teasingly.  
  
Chibs laughed.  
  
“Nah!”  
  
I laughed and looked back down at the laptop on the coffee table, remembering the certain picture that caught my eye.  
  
“Do you know much about handfasting?” I asked.  
  
He nodded.  
  
“It’s where tyin’ the knot came from,” he began.  
  
I nodded. I knew that much.  
  
“Yeah. I just asked because I was looking up traditional, like, Scottish weddings and stuff,” I replied.  
  
He smiled and raised an eyebrow. I smiled shyly.  
  
“I was just curious. Anyway, I found handfasting and I thought it was kind of neat,” I replied.  
  
Chibs popped a peanut and chewed thoughtfully.  
  
“I’ve seen it done a few times,” he said.  
  
He sat up and set the bag on the coffee table, before twisting to face me.  
  
“What they do—hold your left hand up. Palm up,” he instructed.  
  
I did as I was told.  
  
“Now, they’ll ask for the couple to hold their hands out like this,” he said, holding his right palm up, “And there’s a million different ways to do this. I’ve seen the hands held parallel. I’ve seen them crossed, like ya’d do to shake hands. Held at the wrists. Even crossed to make an infinity symbol. I particularly like havin’ both crossed.”  
  
He took my left hand in his with right, and the other vice-versa, creating the loop.  
  
“However, I think I like to hold the one hand, and then just lay the free hand on top,” he said.  
  
We held each other’s hands, again, as if to shake them, then he instructed me to set my left hand on top of our joined hands, then he set his left on top, encompassing mine. I smiled down at our hands. I liked his idea over the stuff I had seen in pictures. Our bottom hands were joined, symbolizing our unity, and our top hands looked like we were swearing over a holy book or something. The top hands were swearing our unity—a vow. A promise.  
  
“Then, they’ll take ribbons and braided cords. Sometimes lace or rope, even. Wrap it all over the place. I like it just wrapped around and through the clasped hands. Both holding the same ribbon or cord,” he explained.  
  
I smiled as I stared at our hands. I suddenly envisioned lush green grass beneath our feet, could feel a breeze, and imaged ribbons and braided cords wrapped around our hands, looking like Celtic knot wrapped around our hands, joining us forever.  
  
“Were ya thinkin’ about doin’ it?” Chibs asked, “Handfastin’ in the ceremony?”  
  
I looked up from my daydream.  
  
“I think it’s a beautiful idea,” I began, “Is there some special stuff we’d have to do?”  
  
He shook his head.  
  
“Just gotta find someone who offers that service,” he replied.  
  
“But, what about the rings?” I asked.  
  
He let my hands go.  
  
“What will probably happen, is Tiggy will give ya away, everythin’ will go as normal, then whoever we get will announce we’ll be doin’ handfastin’, then we’ll do our vows and the rings, then I’m gonna kiss my wife and Venus will cry,” he said.  
  
I burst out laughing. Chibs smiled and silence my laughter with an eager, playful kiss.  
  
“Ya wanna do it?” he asked.  
  
I smiled and nodded. He smiled at that.  
  
“Yeah, me, too.”  
  
I put my arms around his neck. I knew it was a month away, but I was already excited to get the hell out of Charming, marry this sweet man, and run amuck in Scotland.  
  
***  
  
Venus found her dress in nothing flat. Of course, she knew just where to look, too, and after shopping for Chibs’ clothes, we found the perfect dress that not only fit, but the shade of dark blue matched his tie almost exactly. Almost perfectly SAMCRO blue. Her dress was a knee-length satin number with a sweetheart neckline that accommodated her large chest, and a black jeweled sash around the waist. She also bought a pair of new black pumps, making her height equal to Tig’s. She tried the dress on with the pumps and I sat there wishing I had legs like hers. They went on forever.  
Next, it was my turn. Fitting my ass, or finding something even remotely flattering was not easy. Sure, plenty of women my height and shorter got married every day, but they, you know, HAD CURVES! I was a rectangle, where most were hourglass. That pushed me to the uglier dresses.  
  
“What about empire?” Venus asked as she picked a dress.  
  
We were the most hoity-toity bridal gown boutique thing, having to drive close to Oakland for a larger variety. When I walked in, heard the classical music and saw the crystal chandeliers, I knew I was in hell. It was times like this where I wanted to retreat to the clubhouse with my grungy brothers. However, I sucked it up. If anyone had the perfect dress, it was here…hopefully.  
  
“Nah,” I said.  
  
“Well, do you want straps?” she asked.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
“Strapless,” I replied.  
  
I wanted my crow exposed as much as possible. I knew most would think that’s trashy, but this was my Old Man’s crow, and I was proud as hell to show it off.  
  
“Well, let’s see,” Venus said, then towed me across the store.  
  
“Just keep in mind, I have to wear my cut with it,” I said.  
  
Venus stopped short.  
  
“Colors or blackouts? Because that jacket it super hot right now, anyway. It’ll give anything an edge,” she said, flicking her wrist, bangles jingling.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
“Cut, Vee. Colors,” I replied.  
  
She cringed.  
  
“Well, it’s a good thing the leather isn’t worn yet,” she said.  
  
She continued walking. I just smiled and rolled my eyes.  
  
As we browsed, a dress caught my eye, and all of a sudden, it was like a spotlight from heaven was shining down on it and a choir of angels were singing. Then again, maybe that was just the inhuman squeak that came out of my mouth.  
  
“Holy fuck!” I hissed.  
  
Venus spun around from checking a dress to see me zombie walk to the dress in question.  
  
“What’d you find, baby—oh!”  
  
The dress on the mannequin was a white, strapless trumpet gown adorned with little silver leaves on the neckline that branched throughout the entire dress and along the hem. Growing on the branches were little blue roses—SAMCRO blue. It was perfect.  
  
“It is pretty, sugar,” Venus said, “It’s not all white, though.”  
  
I couldn’t take my eyes off of the dress.  
  
“White’s for virgins,” I said distantly.  
  
Venus scoffed.  
  
“Callie!” she hissed.  
  
“Well, it’s white enough!” I argued.  
  
Venus sighed and examined the neckline.  
  
“It is perfect, though. Come on. Let’s see if we can get someone to throw you in it,” she said.  
  
I nodded. I knew for a fact it would have to be hemmed, but I hoped it, or perhaps another size would fit me.  
An hour later, I found myself standing in front of a mirror on a stool, the tailor putting pins in the dress, staring at myself in disbelief. I couldn’t even remember the time I wore a dress. Easter Sunday with my parents when I was a kid, most likely. Pre-puberty. I couldn’t believe how flattering the dress was. It accented what it need, keeping everything classy, and even though it would look a little strange with my cut, it made my crow stand out, and that’s what I wanted. Besides, it fit in with the color of my patches and the club color scheme. It’s only issue was length, and I thankfully I had remembered to bring the booties I would wear to the wedding. Same booties from Rat and Brooke’s wedding. I wanted the height, but something to tie in with the leather. Besides, they were already broken in.  
As I looked myself over, I wondered again what my parents would say. How they’d feel. What my mom would do or say. I’m sure they would not be proud of my lifestyle, but I hoped they looked down at me now, smiling. Proud of what I had accomplished. Doubted it, though. My wild side would have probably been too much. I had calmed down a lot since my trouble days with The VII, but still. No matter how nice and amazing Chibs was, and no matter how happy I was now, they would have frowned upon it. This was my path, though. I couldn’t change it, and frankly, there is not a lot I would change.  
  
“Okay. Change out of the dress, we’ll get this hemmed, and then we’ll put it back on and check,” the tailor said.  
  
I looked down at her.  
  
“How long do you think it will be?” I asked.  
  
She shrugged.  
  
“Half an hour, tops. Enough time to run to the bathroom, go get a snack. Whatever you would like to do,” she replied.  
  
I nodded and carefully stepped down from the stool. Venus was smiling at me.  
  
“You look gorgeous, baby. I can’t wait to see Filip’s face when he sees you,” she said.  
  
I grinned and picked the skirt up so I wouldn’t trample it.  
  
“He’s going to freak,” I said, and Venus laughed.  
  
After changing and doing one last fitting, Venus and I finished up after almost three long hours in the bridal store. The dress was packed into a very nice dress cover that zipped, and we tucked it away in the backseat on the coat hanger in Venus’ car.  
  
“You need a garter set, you know?” Venus said as we left to go grab a bite to eat.  
  
I cringed. Shit!  
  
“Yeah, need handfasting ribbon, too,” I said.  
  
Venus waved me off.  
  
“You know what, hun? I’ll make the set and the ribbon. Club colors?” she asked.  
  
I stared at her in surprise.  
  
“You can sew?” I asked.  
  
She smiled.  
  
“Honey, how in the world do you think I made some of my outfits? And do you honestly know a Southern girl who can’t sew?” she asked.  
  
I laughed.  
  
“In this day and age?” I asked sarcastically, “Do you honestly know any who _can_ sew?”  
  
She smiled.  
  
“You’re probably right. But, I can. Just show me pictures of the handfasting ribbon and I’ll show you what I can do. If you don’t like it, then you can buy your own, but give me a chance first,” she said.  
  
“How fast can you get it all done?” I asked.  
  
“Give me a weekend. That’s all I’ll need, sweetheart,” she said.  
  
I nodded. She reached over and took my hand. I looked up at her in surprise.  
  
“Don’t you worry about one single thing, sugar. You have had hell. This the last thing you need to stress over. We’re all going to help get this wedding off the ground. It’ll all come together, and it will be magic. I promise,” she said.  
  
I smiled at that.  
  
“Thank-you, Vee,” I said.  
  
“You’re so welcome, baby.”  
  
***  
  
That night, I called in a favor. There was something I had been wanting to have done for a little while now. Something special. Something I had meant to do after my crow had healed, but never had the chance or the motivation to get it done. Now, I had a bit of time on my hands, and I thought I might spare Happy from having to buy a wedding gift. And this time, I towed Chibs with me, not telling him anything about why we were going to the clubhouse after hours with take-out for not two, but three. I thought that since Happy had agreed to the favor, I’d buy him dinner as a thank-you. He was more than happy to get it.  
  
“I’m actually a wee bit nervous here, love,” Chibs said as we walked up to the clubhouse door.  
  
I smiled at him.  
  
“Find a notepad when we get in here. Write your name on it,” I said.  
  
He stared at me like I had gone crazy.  
  
“And…what exactly are we doin’?” he asked.  
  
I smiled at him.  
  
“I needed a model,” I replied.  
  
He was beyond confused, and it was hilarious.  
  
We entered with bags of take-out and found Happy at the bar, wiping it down with a disinfectant wipe, his tattooing equipment sitting on the floor.  
  
“Oh, shit,” Chibs said slowly, “Callie!”  
  
I grinned at him.  
  
“What, baby?” I asked innocently.  
  
He stared at Happy, who just smiled.  
  
“Hey, Prez,” he said.  
  
“What the hell is this?” he asked, exhausted from trying to figure it all out.  
  
He had been trying to guess what I was up to for over an hour.  
  
“Dinner with Hap,” I replied with a shrug.  
  
“Yeah? Dinner and a needle?” he asked accusingly.  
  
I just smiled.  
  
“Calm down, brother. She just wanted her wedding present early,” he said.  
  
Chibs sighed heavily.  
  
“Christ,” he breathed out.  
  
Happy and I smiled at him as we sat at the bar.  
  
“Come on, Chibs. Eat and I’ll reveal my secret agenda,” I said.  
  
He just glared at me. Oh, he was too much fun to mess with.  
  
After eating, Chibs wrote his name on a piece of paper. Of course, it said “Chibs” and I had to clarify.  
  
“What the hell do ya—oh! Wait a minute,” he said, catching on.  
  
I smiled as Happy prepared to clean the area that would be tattooed.  
  
“Which wrist, Cal?” Happy asked.  
  
Just to make sure, I reached for Chibs’ wrist and turned it. I wanted it on the opposite of his.  
  
“Left,” I replied.  
  
Happy held a hand out and I handed him my left hand. Chibs was just staring at me. Happy paused as his eyes fell upon my arm. This was the first time he noticed how wrecked they were. He cleaned the area, then reached for Chibs’ arm and flipped it over, revealing his faded evidence of abuse.  
  
“Okay. One of you explain to me what these are. I didn’t want to say anything, but now I have to. What the hell are these from?” he asked.  
  
Chibs sighed.  
  
“I wrestled a bear once,” was my smart-ass answer.  
  
Happy glared at me.  
  
“They’re self-harm scars, Hap,” Chibs said tiredly.  
  
Happy looked stunned.  
  
“What…what do you mean?” he asked.  
  
“Cutting,” I replied.  
  
Happy’s face went grim.  
  
“They’re old, brother,” Chibs said, “The tattoos are from promises Cal and I made to each other to never cut again. We’ve been clean for a long time.”  
  
That didn’t change anything for Happy.  
  
“You were suicidal, Chibs?” he asked quietly.  
  
I bit my bottom lip. The heartbreak in the Sergeant at Arms’ voice made my chest hurt, and when I looked to see Chibs’ reaction, my eyes watered. Just the thought of ever losing him like that took me to a very dark place. Even finding a new scar or catching him in the act would break me far faster and harder than anything L could do to me.  
  
“No, Hap,” he said.  
  
“But Otto cut his wrists to—“  
  
“Happy! I didn’t wanna off myself. It was a very bad habit that manifested durin’ a very dark time. Probably shoulda saw a shrink, but I just worked myself out of it,” Chibs replied.  
  
Happy looked from Chibs to me.  
  
“Me, too,” I said.  
  
Happy put one arm around me and the other around Chibs.  
  
“Don’t tell anyone,” Chibs said.  
  
“I won’t. Please don’t ever leave that way. Both of you,” he said.  
  
I sighed and patted Happy back.  
  
“Aye,” Chibs agreed.  
  
Happy pulled back and nodded.  
  
“We don’t have a reason to ever do that anymore, Hap,” I said, “These tattoos seal the end of it. We’re starting anew.”  
  
He smiled at that.  
  
“Okay. Good.”  
  
Chibs and I smiled. Happy picked up the tattoo gun.  
  
“What do you want. Same thing as Chibs?” he asked.  
  
I turned to Chibs, turned him slightly to the side, and pointed to the anarchy symbol tattooed above his elbow, which was also painted on the tank of the Dyna.  
  
“That one. Exactly like that,” I said.  
  
Happy nodded. Chibs just stared at me.  
  
“Tha’s what ya needed me to model for?” he asked in disbelief.  
  
“What?” I asked, “Did you really want to stay home that bad?”  
  
He smiled and shook his head.  
  
“No, I just didn’t see what all of this secrecy shit was about,” he replied.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“I wanted to get my promise tattoo, and I wanted you here with me,” I replied.  
  
Happy began the outline, and burning pain exploded throughout my wrist and hand. I gritted my teeth and Chibs took my free hand.  
  
“And ‘cause I knew this one would hurt like hell,” I grunted.  
  
He laughed and squeezed my hand. Happy was smiling.  
  
“You should have seen Chibs. He wussed out when I did his,” he said.  
  
My jaw dropped. Chibs’ narrowed his eyes at Hap.  
  
“I did not! I ain’t no fuckin’ pussy!” he hissed.  
  
Happy laughed.  
  
“Whatever, man! I had to go get Tig to hold his arm down,” he said.  
  
Chibs rolled his eyes. I just laughed.  
  
“Oh, come on! It wasn’t that bad,” I said, knowing that he was exaggerating.  
  
“He cried,” Hap said.  
  
Chibs was silent before he held his wrist up, pointing to the phoenix.  
  
“Well can ya fuckin’ blame me? Look at all these delicate little lines and shit!” he said, his voice jumping an octave.  
  
I couldn’t help but laugh at him.  
  
This tattoo was quite the pain in the ass, and when Hap began to fill the lines in, I was biting my lip and squeezing the life out of Chibs’ hand. It wasn’t like the absolute agony the lower section of my club tattoo was, but it was very sharp and intense, and anyone would have buckled down and probably punched something. But soon enough, it was over.  
Happy wiped the fresh ink clean and let me look at it while he hunted for a bandage. I held my wrist up on the table. Chibs leaned over to look at it and smiled. From the base of my fingers to my elbow, I was a used cutting board. Carved by the glass I had fallen in during my attack, as well as many different blades. They disappeared against the tattoo. Chibs put his hand in mine and kissed me.  
  
“It’s beautiful, love,” he said.  
  
I looked down at the anarchy symbol that matched his on his arm, and underneath it, “Filip” in his chicken scratch. If I wasn’t marked with the crow, I was marked now. It was more than just a best friend tattoo that happened to resemble his, but it would always remind me of my hero, and keep me from ever harming myself again.  
Happy wrapped my wrist and I thanked him for the tattoo. He just smiled and hugged me.  
  
“You’re welcome, Cal.”  
  
I knew one day the entire club would know what I used to do, and by now, I didn’t mind. It was just history.  
That night, Chibs fell asleep with a hand around my left wrist and his head on my shoulder. It took me another hour or so before I fell asleep. I lightly stroked his hair, staring up at the slowly spinning ceiling fan, daydreaming.


	45. At Your Side Forever

“Put this on, sugar,” Venus said, thrusting a black tube into my hand before slipping into the bathroom.  
  
I looked down in my hand to see a tube of designer lipstick.  
  
“Oh, come on, Vee! It’ll just get kissed off,” I whined.  
  
Venus popped her head out of the bathroom.  
  
“Honey, if that even tries to smudge, I’ll have to return it. Trust me, baby,” she said.  
  
I groaned and opened the tube. Inside was a very dark, sultry shade of wine red. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. I was barely a makeup person, but I couldn’t argue with the shade. I walked in front of the full-length mirror and applied the makeup. Within seconds, it began to dry matte. Venus had completed the rest of my makeup, getting a hold of my face just shortly after disappearing to try and do some of the guys’ hair. Scotland was a very wet place, and with the moisture in the air came a nightmare for Californian hair. My hair kinked. Her hair frizzed. Tig’s hair had gone haywire, and apparently, Chibs and Rat’s went limp and unmanagable. Whatever Venus had done, though, had seemed to work. That crisis had been averted, and now we were getting the last things done before the music played at 2:00. She had my hair done in a flash and my makeup in another. I had requested a smoky eye. She had other ideas. Frankly, I liked her idea better.  
Venus had tried to put my hair in an updo, but it was still too choppy and uneven, so we made do with a round brush and the hairdryer, adding volume and sweeping the fringe, then creating loose curls in the longer pieces before pinning a black rose clip into the shorter side, black goose feathers coming out from under the rose. Paired with the minimal, 1940’s glamor makeup she slapped on me, I couldn’t help but stare at myself in the mirror. The beautiful dress that only Venus had seen, my crow, and Venus’ superb cosmetic skills. I didn’t look like that stocky punk kid from Huntington Beach anymore. It was like I had hit a second puberty, even though I often wondered if the exterior of my body ever did transition. I was still short, but the dress gave me curves I didn’t know I had. Maybe it was a trick of the mind, but as I stared at myself, I realized had the capability to look womanly. Classy. Some I never thought of myself before. I wondered what Chibs would think when he saw me. I also wondered how he looked. What it would be like to see him at the end of that aisle.  
  
“Callie?” Venus asked.  
  
I ripped myself from my thoughts and looked up to see Venus’ head sticking out the door.  
  
“Baby, can you put that cut on? I wanna see something,” she said.  
  
I nodded and walked over to the couch where my booties and cut was laying. I picked up the heavy piece of leather and slung it over my shoulders. As I turned to look at myself in the mirror on the vanity, I realized that the leather took up a lot of space. In fact, it swallowed my top half. I cringed. I had planned on getting married in it, but I had not counted on it looking this frumpy against the elegant dress.  
  
“Ew,” I said.  
  
Venus came out and put her hands on her hips, the gorgeous blue dress she chose framing her perfectly.  
  
“That’s what I thought,” she said.  
  
I pulled the cut from my shoulders.  
  
“I had no idea how shitty that would look. Fuck!” I hissed.  
  
Venus approached me and picked the leather up.  
  
“This dress is too gorgeous for you to get married in it with this,” she said.  
  
“But all patched members get married in their cuts,” I said.  
  
It wasn’t a written rule, but that’s how it was.  
  
“Yes, I know, and I know how much the Reaper means to y’all, but I don’t think they counted on a female member,” she replied.  
  
She draped it over my shoulders and I put my arms back through. She grimaced as she tried to situate the cut where it would be at least semi-flattering.  
  
“Hmm. Let me go get Alexander. Get his opinion,” she said.  
  
I nodded. Venus padded across the room, not yet in her pumps, even though her hair was pulling into an elegant up-do and her makeup was finished. She opened the door, noise from the boys’ rooms flooding in. She looked down the hall and stepped out.  
  
“Alex, baby, can you come here for a minute?” she asked.  
  
“Yeah,” I heard Tig reply.  
  
Vee padded back in and Tig followed. I turned and smiled at him as Venus shut the door.  
  
“Oh my God, baby girl! You look beautiful!” he breathed out.  
  
I walked up to him and hugged him. There was no hope for his hair, but he looked quite handsome dressed in all black.  
  
“Thank-you. You look pretty snazzy yourself,” he said.  
  
He smiled and shrugged.  
  
“Meh. I try,” he replied.  
  
I laughed at that. Venus walked up beside me.  
  
“Stand up straight, baby,” she said.  
  
I obeyed and played mannequin for a moment as she fiddled with my cut.  
  
“We ran into a problem and need your opinion,” she said.  
  
He raised a confused eyebrow.  
  
“My opinion. Baby, I—“  
  
“On the cut, Tig,” I said.  
  
Tig looked over the leather.  
  
“She was going to wear this, but it completely obstructs everything,” Venus said.  
  
Tig stepped up to me and held my shoulders.  
  
“Ooh, you’re right. That’s a problem,” he said.  
  
I bit my lip.  
  
“You think I should leave it off?” I said.  
  
Tig nodded.  
  
“Does your club ink show?” he asked.  
  
I pulled the cut back off and turned to face my back to him.  
  
“Okay, you can see some of it. So long as you’re wearing something of the club. Let me double-check with Chibby,” he said.  
  
I turned back around and watched as he slipped back out. I walked over to the mirror and checked myself over. It had been important to get married with the Reaper on my back, but now, I was considering marrying him as an Old Lady, part of my membership peek-a-booing out of the back of my dress. I sighed and looked down at my dress. It was too pretty to be covered up. As I smoothed my hands over it, my eyes found my newest tattoo. I turned my wrist over, Chibs’ Anarchy symbol and his name staring back at me. I sighed and smiled. I realized that whether I wore my cut or not, it didn’t matter. I wasn’t marrying the club. I was already neck deep in it. I was technically “married” to it. No, I was marrying the man that led our tribe. The man that we all looked up to, trusted, and took care of all of us when we were sick or hurt. This is who I would be bound to forever. I had no doubt the club would always be there, but Chibs had remained a constant since arriving to Charming, that is what mattered the most to me.  
  
“Callie!” Tig called.  
  
I spun away from the mirror and looked to see my VP appear in the doorway.  
  
“Chibby said you can do whatever you feel comfortable doing,” he said.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“But, you better finish getting ready. We’re heading down,” he continued.  
  
“Okay,” I said, going to the couch to grab my boots, “Vee, you got the ribbons?”  
  
Venus slipped into her pumps and checked herself.  
  
“Yes, sugar,” she said.  
  
“Tig, you got the rings?” I asked.  
  
He patted his cut pocket.  
  
“Right here, baby girl,” he said.  
  
I took a deep breath.  
  
“Good,” I said.  
  
I stood up and checked my hair once more. Rane appeared in the doorway and knocked.  
  
“King’s on the move,” he said.  
  
Venus thanked him and quickly shut the door before one of us could see each other.  
  
“You better get down there, too, darlin’,” Tig said to Venus.  
  
She nodded and picked up the bundle of handfasting ribbon from the bed.  
  
“Alright. Callie, hun, you got everything? Where’s the bouquet?” she asked.  
  
I went to the table and picked up the bundle dark blue and black faux roses.  
  
“Got it,” I replied.  
  
Venus approached me and cupped my face.  
  
“Garters?” she asked.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“In place,” I replied.  
  
She smiled and stroked my cheek.  
  
“I am so happy for you, baby,” she said.  
  
I smiled shyly and thanked her. She kissed my cheek.  
  
“I’m going to see how the boys are doing,” she said.  
  
She spun away from me. I twisted the bouquet between my fingers and took a deep breath. Tig approached me and put a hand on the back on my neck.  
  
“You really do look beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, “You may make that Scottish bastard swoon.”  
  
I smiled and laughed.  
  
“Thank-you,” I replied.  
  
“If he doesn’t first. Hot damn, that man cleans up good!” Venus said from the doorway.  
  
I rolled my eyes.  
  
“Venus, don’t tease,” I said.  
  
She smiled at me over her shoulder.  
  
“Sorry, sugar,” she apologized.  
  
“Can I get a moment with Cal, baby?” Tig asked.  
  
Venus nodded.  
  
“Of course. I’m going to head down,” she said.  
  
We nodded and waited until she was out the door. Tig took my hand.  
  
“I wanna talk to you for a moment,” he said softly.  
  
I just nodded and followed him to the couch. We sat down beside each other, and he held my hands tightly.  
  
“I was an idiot when I got married,” he began, “I didn’t do anything right. I just…I don’t know. I didn’t care. And when my girls were born, you know, my head wasn’t in it. It was in the club and hooker pussy most of the time.”  
  
I laughed at that.  
  
“When they were grown, I realized I had missed out on a lot, and I tried as much as I could to rebuild my relationship with Dawn. Even if it was built on lies and money. I’d give her anything just so I could see her, and I regret that I couldn’t do more for her and Fawn. Now, because of my mistakes, I’ve lost them both. I never thought I would ever get a second chance, but you and Rat—you know I think of you two as my kids. Rat’s married. Fixing to have a baby. And now, you’re getting married, and I honestly couldn’t think of anyone better for you. Chibby loves the everliving shit out of you.”  
  
I smiled at him. He smiled softly and stroked my cheek.  
  
“You have no idea, how much walking you down the aisle means to me. Hell, I didn’t even know how much it meant until you asked me.”  
  
“Well, it means a lot to me for you to do it. You and Vee took me in and took care of me. You guys are family to me,” I said.  
  
Tig smiled.  
  
“And we love you, baby girl. Chibs is going to take really good care of you. You’re in good hands, but just remember that…no matter what, I will always be here for you, okay?”  
  
Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes, and I could feel mine burn with the same threat.  
  
I nodded and squeezed his hands.  
  
“Don’t think there won’t be a time where I won’t need you, Tiggy,” I said.  
  
He gave me a small smile.  
  
“I know. I just wanted you to know,” he replied.  
  
I smiled and reached up to hug him. Tig embraced me for dear life, cradling the back of my head and burying his nose in my hair.  
  
“I love you, baby girl.”  
  
I felt tears brim my eyes, and it took all of me to hold them back.  
  
“I love you, too, Pop.”  
  
Tig sniffed, and I felt his body shake.  
  
“Tiggy, don’t start crying, or I will,” I said.  
  
Tig laughed and pulled back, quickly wiping his cheeks. He smiled at me and touched my cheek.  
  
“I’m okay. Don’t start crying yet. You’ll mess up your makeup,” he said.  
  
I smiled and cleared my throat, trying to get right.  
  
A knock at the door alerted us.  
  
“Time to go,” came Rat’s voice.  
  
We looked from the door to each other. Tig took my hand and we stood.  
  
“You ready, baby girl?” he asked.  
  
I nodded. He held his arm out, and I took it, walking with my bouquet, turning the lights out before leaving. I would be returning to the room married, as surreal as it still was.  
Tig and I met down on a parlor area. Outside, I could see the club and our friends and family sitting in the chairs, and the top of the arch over the alter. Through the open door, I could hear the soft, magical sounds of the harp and hammered dulcimer cutting through the sound of the breeze in the trees. From where Tig and I were waiting, we couldn’t see much going on in the front, but I knew what was going on. My brothers were seated in the front, Chibs standing at the altar with Gwyneth, our priestess. I just felt like there was something missing. As a black bird flew over the wedding and down to the lake below, I knew exactly what it was missing.  
  
“Is it everything you hoped it would be?” Tig asked quietly.  
  
I smiled up at him.  
  
“Almost,” I replied.  
  
He frowned.  
  
“I mean, it’s better than I imagined, but I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if Juice was here,” I said.  
  
Tig sighed.  
  
“There are days when I don’t even think about him, but I miss my brother, you know?”  
  
Tig pulled me into a hug.  
  
“I know, baby. He’s always with you, though. I’m sure he’s here watching somehow,” he assured me.  
  
I nodded. I hoped so.  
  
Once Venus had made her walk, the music played louder, the song I had chosen to walk to floating over the audience. I had decided against the traditional wedding march. I wanted something more meaningful—more traditional to Scotland. The musicians had several pieces for me to choose from and after listening to samples, I had made my decision. The piece I had chosen was a Celtic piece that sent my mind straight to the Highlands. It was a slow, flowing romantic piece, and once it reached my ears and the audience stood, I knew I had chosen the right song.  
I locked my arm with Tig’s and looked up at him, my heart racing.  
  
“This is it, baby girl. You ready?” he asked.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Yeah,” I replied nervously.  
  
He snuck in one last kiss to my forehead, then we began the walk. I was scared to death, and I’m sure Tig could feel my fear. I was never good with being the center of attention. All eyes were on me, and I smiled to those closest, but my attention was torn from them when I finally saw Chibs. I felt my heart leap from my stomach to my throat and my breath caught. My fear, however, was gone. No one else existed at the moment, except him.  
Chibs looked breathtaking. He smiled that sexy, crooked smile I adored, and his eyes smoldered when he saw me. I smiled shyly, not sure what to do or how to react. My mind had turned to mush, and I hoped to hell that I remembered my vows. In any case, Tig had copies in case we went blank. I had a feeling that I would, as I could not think about anything for Chibs. He looked as dapper as a biker could get. I had not had the opportunity to see him in his formal wear until now. His all black ensemble with gleaming SAMCRO belt and his cut, blue tie tucked into his suit vest. The fitted cut accentuating his broad shoulders and dipping into his sides. His black jeans hugging his legs, making him look taller than he was. His hair was combed perfectly, and I could tell Venus had gotten a hold of him with a flat iron to straighten those unruly pieces that liked to flip out behind his ears. Standing there, he exuded strength, power, and a certain tranquility that made me forget my fear.  
When we were finally at the front, Tig hugged me, then Chibs took my hand. I smiled at him as Tig took his place beside our Prez. The music ended, and the audience sat down.  
  
“Ladies and gentlemen, friends and family” Gwyneth said, “welcome. We are gathered here today to witness the union of Filip Telford and Callie Shepherd on this beautiful afternoon.”  
  
I zoned out, unable to take my eyes off of Chibs. I could not believe this beautiful man standing in front of me would soon be my husband, and I couldn’t believe I was about to become Callie Telford. That alone blew my mind.  
Chibs was a statue, he didn’t move as we stood, pretending and unable to pay attention to anything she said. We were in our own world, absorbed in each other after being separated for the longest amount I think we’ve ever been away since Christmas. I was itching to kiss him. Eager to talk to him. Standing here, watching him watch me with loving eyes—it was making me crazy.  
  
“Today, Filip and Callie have chosen to incorporate handfasting into their ceremony. Handfasting is an ancient Celtic tradition of the binding of two people eternally of their own free will. The promises made here will express the couple’s intent in front of their friends and family. With these promises, your union with strengthen and your souls will grow. Do you seek to enter this ceremony?”  
  
“I do,” Chibs replied.  
  
I smiled at Gwyneth and nodded.  
  
“I do,” I replied.  
  
She smiled. Venus took my bouquet for me.  
  
“Filip and Callie, will you please hold your hands palm up so that you can see the gift you are to each other?” she requested.  
  
Chibs held up his right palm, and I my left, as we had practiced.  
  
“Then join,” Gwyneth said.  
  
Chibs and I decided to manipulate his preferred method of handfasting to accommodate the special ink on our wrists. Instead of holding these hands, we decided to take it a step into the more traditional route and hold each other by the wrist, our hands encompassing our promises we made as friends as we vowed to each other as a couple. Then, we crossed our opposite hands over the already joined hands and took them. Chibs took my hand gently, and I couldn’t hold back the smile. Venus approached us and produced the bundle of ribbons, lace, and braided cords she had made. They were beautiful, made of white lace, dark blue and black silk, a braided blue and black cord, and some blue and black tartan she managed to find. She started at Chibs’ wrist, delicately wrapping the handfasting material around and through our hands, tucking the last of it around my wrist. She then smiled, and stepped back beside me. I looked down at our hands, and couldn’t help but feel like it was exactly, if not better than how I imagined it.  
  
“These are the hands of your best friend that will promise to love you every day of your life,” Gwyneth began, “These are the hands that will work beside you as you share your lives together. These are the hands that will touch you with love and tenderness and passion. These are the hands that will cherish you forever, and wipe the tears from your eyes, and catch you when you fall. These are the hands that will comfort you in illness and in fear or grief. These are the hands that will hold you high, support you, and encourage you. Your dreams and goals and wishes will be fulfilled as a team. This binding represents your love up until this point, and will continue to bind you until the binding of the rings takes its place as you make your vows to each other.”  
  
I swallowed thickly, letting her words sink in as I watched our hands, the ribbons hiding all of our scars. There was something very special at play here. Perhaps it was my imagination, but deep down, I could feel it. I could feel it in the words and through our hands. Our energies were blending. There was something about this country that I could only describe as magical. Deep, ancient energy. Something beautiful. The ribbons were just symbolism to everyone in attendance, but to me, they meant more than the words. They were the seals that mended two very broken and jagged souls that needed grounding, affection, and completion. One did not function correctly without the other. As inseparable as we were—as unbreakable as we were, this welded us together for good.  
When Gwyneth concluded the handfasting, it was time for the rings. I let go of Chibs left hand and unwrapped the handfasting material until his hand was free. Tig handed me Chibs’ wedding band, and I took his hand and slid the silver metal, ornately engraved with Celtic knots, the inside engraved with the same words tattooed along my collarbone. “Ri do thaobh gu sìorraidh” over his ring finger.  
  
“On this day,” I spoke, making sure I was loud enough for the audience to hear, “I take you, Filip Telford, to be my husband and my King. You are my best friend, who could never thank enough for sharing your world with me. For guiding me through the darkness, and for saving my life. You are my hero. I adore you, and with this ring, I promise to continue to love you, to always protect you, and I will remain at your side forever.”  
  
My voice was strangled as I finished, and I could see Chibs’ eyes water. He smiled through it, and unwrapped my hand. Tig handed him my ring and took the ribbon so we could keep our hands free. He held my hand gently and slipped the ring on, mine matching his, except set with small diamonds, and “At Your Side Forever” engraved on the inside.  
  
“On this day, I take you, Callie, to be my best friend, my love, and my Queen. You are my strength when I can’t reach any, and the music that silences my demons. I can’t wait to share the rest of my life with ya, and with this ring, I promise to always love ya, cherish ya, be your strength, your light…and I promise,” he smiled devilishly, “to treat ya as good as my leather…”  
  
I smiled, and my brothers joined us.  
  
“…and ride you as much as my Harley,” we said.  
  
Chibs beamed.  
  
“Ri do thaobh gu sìorraidh,” he finished.  
  
Tears brimmed my eyes and spilled as Gwyneth announced we could kiss. Chibs happily took my face and kissed me deeply. The audience erupted.  
  
“I love you, Callie,” Chibs said  
  
I sniffed and he wiped my cheeks.  
  
“I love you, too, sweet boy.”  
  
***  
  
There were two figures in attendance to the wedding, neither of which seen, but both front and center to witness the ceremony. One was slightly older than the other, long blonde hair, mustache and goatee, wearing a SAMCRO cut. The other, slightly taller, with long reddish-brown hair and beard, wearing nice jeans and a purple t-shirt. They sat together, smoking cigarettes, sharing small talk, and admiring the unity of two souls that no one could argue were meant to be together. They knew this better than anyone.  
Jax smiled at the Scotsman, whose eyes were glued to his bride. He was more than proud of his brother—all of his brothers, really, but Chibs especially. The man was 13 years older than him, but their minds had been on the same immature and reckless level since Jax was old enough to legally drink. Chibs had settled after they returned his son, Abel, from Ireland. He noticed every once in a while how much Chibs had matured, and when promoted to the roles of Sergeant at Arms, and later, VP, he served his assigned duties so well, it would be hard to top him. He had been just as trigger-happy as Tig and even Jax himself at one point. Granted, Chibs rarely messed up, but there were times where his footing was unsure. He never fell, though, and Jax watching his brother’s footing secure and steady increasingly in his last years in SAMCRO. Not a day went by that Jax wasn’t proud of Chibs. He was a natural-born leader, no matter how much he relied on Jax in the past. He was proud, and he was happy to see what became of their newest recruit, who he found had a guardian that walked his plane.  
Zero smiled when he saw Chibs take Callie’s hand. His number one concern when he discovered that his health was failing, was his Old Lady’s safety when he was gone. Money had never been an object, but he knew his brothers well, and knew that they would not be there for her the way she needed. Callie was once independent, but since her parents’ tragic death, she never strayed far from him and his family. She lived with them for a year before living with an aunt that really never cared to raise a teenager. She hated him, and thinking back now, she had every right to. He was a bad kid, but then again, all five of them and the girlfriends were holy terrors. Still, Zero had always taken care of her, and when he stood at the sink every morning, preparing to take the first of the day’s pills that would keep his chest from hurting and his blood thin enough for his weak heart to pump, he worried who would take care of her when he was gone. Fate had already thought of that, and if Zero could hug Chibs, he would. Seeing his her now, he smiled through tears. He would guard her forever, but there were no better arms for her to run to than SAMCRO’s President.  
The afterlife worked mysteriously, and almost seven years gone, Zero still did not understand it. He knew his role, but he did not understand the different planes of existence. He wondered why he only saw a handful of spirits, and not all of them. He had thought that only spirits who died in the same year saw each other, but as he sat beside Jax, he knew that wasn’t true. Jax was freshly passed, and that Ortiz kid even fresher. He never saw Ortiz, as he had expected to, nor had Jax. For some reason, they walked a different plane than Juice, and neither could figure out why they were on the same plane until they watched the wedding begin. They were in the same plane for the person they were destined to guard. Jax was in and out, but Zero saw everything. He was tied to Callie. Jax was tied to Chibs, but also tied to his boys. There were times where Zero never saw him. Today, they stood nearby Tig, and watched with smiles and tears.  
  
“She looks pretty,” Jax said.  
  
Zero smiled.  
  
“I never thought I would get a chance to see her in a wedding dress,” he admitted.  
  
Jax smiled.  
  
“I didn’t think I’d ever see him get married again, either,” he replied.  
  
Zero just nodded. Jax looked up at him.  
  
“She was your Old Lady?” he asked.  
  
Zero nodded again. He lifted his long hair and showed the former M/C President that tattoo of Callie’s name behind his ear. Jax nodded and took a drag from his cigarette.  
  
“Is this kind of weird for you, then?” Jax asked.  
  
Zero shook his head.  
  
“No, I’m happy this happened,” he said.  
  
Jax glanced at Zero.  
  
“He’ll take care of her,” he said.  
  
Zero smiled.  
  
“I know. I don’t doubt she’ll do the same for him,” he replied.  
  
Jax smiled and nodded. They turned their attention back to the wedding, and Zero saw the tears slide down Callie’s cheeks as Chibs kissed her. He smiled, his own tears escaping. She was safe now. Jax covered his mouth. Seeing his brother so happy brought tears to his eyes. He never thought he would see his brother the way he used to be after Opie’s death. He was a new man, now, and the club Jax had grown up in was renewed. And he and Zero both felt that their loved ones were safe.  
  
***  
  
For the next few hours, Chibs and I were not able to have one moment alone. Everyone swarmed us, took thousands of pictures, and it were stuck taking pictures with T.O.’s Old Lady for what felt like hours. It was not until the reception was about to begin, and Chibs and I were waiting in the hallway outside the ballroom to make our entrance. I had just stepped out of the bathroom and walked down to the hall to find it clear, save for Chibs. No club members. No hotel staff. No cameras. Just us. I sighed in relief and ran over to him—as fast as I could in heels, anyway.  
  
“Hey,” I breathed out.  
  
I jumped into his arms and held him tightly.  
  
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said.  
  
He took my hands and kissed me as if his life depended on it.  
  
“Finally some room to breathe,” he said.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Yeah, I know,” I agreed.  
  
Chibs and I smiled at each other. I cupped his jaw and he dipped his head down, touching his forehead to mine.  
  
“God, I missed you!” I said.  
  
“I missed ya, too, love. And this dress…Jesus!”  
  
I pulled back and smiled up at him.  
  
“You like it?” I asked.  
  
“Aye. Callie, ya look amazin’,” he said.  
  
He cupped my cheeks and I held his wrists.  
  
“You do too,” I said.  
  
He smiled that secret, precious smile of his, and I swear I have never seen the man happier. It was amazing to know that I was the source of that.  
  
“ _Ladies and gentleman, may I have your attention?_ ” we heard Tig say over the microphone at the DJ booth.  
  
Chibs took my hands.  
  
“Time to tango, love,” he said jokingly.  
  
I smiled as he turned to face the door. I took his arm and looked forward.  
  
“I wish I could tango,” I said.  
  
“We had this down. We practiced until we had it last night,” he said.  
  
“I know, but I still have two left feet,” I replied.  
  
Chibs chuckled kissed the top of my head.  
  
“You’ll be fine,” he said.  
  
I smirked. We had practiced more than just a simple dance routine. He had had another idea.  
  
“But do we have to enter like this?” I asked.  
  
“ _So, everyone please rise and welcome Chibs and Callie Telford! Get your asses out here!_ ” Tig shouted.  
  
Chibs grinned.  
  
“Aye.”  
  
The doors opened, and it one quick movement, Chibs lifted me and threw me over his shoulder. I couldn’t help but laugh. We walked down the line of our brothers and their guests, Tig and Venus at the end. I just waved to everyone as Chibs carried me to the dance floor.  
  
“Caveman style, huh?” Happy called to me.  
  
I grinned.  
  
“Not my idea,” I replied.  
  
But I wouldn’t have had it any other way.  
  
Chibs set me down in the center of the dance floor and I smoothed at my dress. He smiled at me and brushed my hair to the side. The club moved to their tables and I got a chance to look around. The old ballroom was beautiful, decorated in the club colors and lit up with crystal chandeliers and candles, casting a warm, romantic glow over the reception.  
  
“Give me just a moment here, kids,” said our DJ, “Had a little bit of a technical difficulty, but just give me a moment.”  
  
I smiled sympathetically at the DJ. He was flustered, most likely fearing he would be fired, but sometimes you can’t help technical difficulties—especially with computers.  
  
“We’re patient. Don’t worry,” I said to him.  
  
He nodded and checked his board. I looked up at Chibs and smiled.  
  
“Shake it, Callie!” one of our brothers, who I’m assuming was actually Tig, called.  
  
I smirked. Chibs began to sway.  
  
“Dance to nothin’? Give ‘em a show?” he asked with a wink.  
  
I raised an eyebrow at him. Oh, he wanted a show?  
  
I turned away from him and shimmied my hips for no longer than a few seconds. I turned back to see him staring at me with his jaw on the floor. Someone whistled.  
  
“What the bloody hell was that?” he asked, “I thought ya said ya had two left feet! What was that?”  
  
I smirked at him. Something in me switched. I wasn’t sure when it happened, but since we made our vows, I no longer felt so self-conscious around him. The last of my walls fell, and I wasn’t afraid to be sexy around him (sober). Maybe it was because I knew he was fully devoted to me, maybe it was because it finally sunk in that the man was now my husband, but I suddenly had no reservations about being flirtatious with him.  
  
“What? This?” I asked.  
  
I pushed my chest out, hands on my hips, and isolated them, watching his eyes as I did a few hip lifts. He followed my every movement, frozen. I just laughed at him.  
  
“Yes, that! Where the hell did ya learn to dance like that?” he asked.  
  
I relaxed and shrugged.  
  
“My mom took belly dancing lessons for fun. Picked some of it up,” I replied.  
  
Chibs eyes looked like they need to be pushed back into their sockets. He then looked up at the ceiling, crossed his heart and thanked God. I burst out laughing.  
  
“I married a woman with hips like Shakira,” he said victoriously.  
  
I let my head fall back and laughed.  
  
“And you gotta butt like J. Lo! Let’s see you get down, big boy!” I teased.  
  
His face went from relieved to intense in a snap, and he stared me down, his eyes angry and his lips amused.  
  
“Ah, no, no, love,” he said.  
  
I crossed my arms over my chest.  
  
“And why not?” I asked.  
  
He smiled devilishly.  
  
“Ya wouldn’t be able to handle it,” he said lowly.  
  
My shoulders dropped and I grinned, a growl stuck in my throat.  
  
“Dance! Dance! Dance!” the crowd began to chant.  
  
Chibs ticked his hips to his right once, and I felt my eyes widen. He grinned, then ticked in a circle. I just stared at him, my mouth wide open. He smiled proudly when he saw my reaction. I could feel my entire flush. I marched up to him, grabbed him by the tie, yanked him down and captured his mouth. He melted and held me flush to him. The entire room erupted.  
  
“Alright. We got it now. I apologize for that,” the DJ said.  
  
“It’s alright. We good?” Chibs asked.  
  
He nodded and took the mic.  
  
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen. Our newlyweds are going to take the floor with their first dance as husband and wife with the song they have chosen,” he said.  
  
Chibs winked at me, and we moved to opposite corners of the floor. Chibs pushed his cut off and tossed it to Montez, who was the closest. The opening bass line of “1953” by Dropkick Murphys began, and Chibs and I walked to meet each other in the middle of the floor, dancing to the slow, love song that flowed with an uplifting piano and bagpipe melody. Our dance was a mixture of waltz and swing, and we moved and he turned me around the floor, keeping time with the music, getting lost in each other and fighting not to laugh. We weren’t dancers, and this was a big step out of our comfort zone, but we loved it. When the song ended, Chibs pulled me in and kissed me passionately.  
  
“Was dancing with me so bad?” he asked.  
  
I smiled and shook my head.  
  
“Not at all,” I replied.  
  
He smiled warmly. I’d dance with him any day.  
  
***  
  
As the reception wore on, and the drunker and fuller we got, every single one of us became our silly, crazy selves. Our antics in the clubhouse when drunk were enough to get us kicked out of the country. I just hoped that didn’t happen tonight.  
When it came time to remove the garter, the sexual innuendos spilled out. This time, Chibs didn’t allow the cat calls, and when I heard the first distasteful remark, I threatened to beat the shit out of whoever said it. I had no idea who had said it, but I would find out.  
  
“You guys see Tig right?” I asked the audience, “The man is 6’ 3”! An entire foot and 50 pounds or more over me, and I can pummel him in the ring. Now, if I don’t find you, my husband damn sure will!”  
  
God, that felt good to say!  
  
“That’s right!” Chibs added.  
  
I was laughing with the audience. Chibs pulled up a chair for me, turning it to the side so I would face him and not our guests. He put his hands on his hips and smirked at me, and the DJ dared to play ZZ Top’s “Legs”, which was more than perfect for a biker wedding. I died laughing when it came on. Chibs kissed me, then took my hand and kissed down my arm as he lowered himself to his knees, his eyes never leaving mine. I felt heat rush to my cheeks, remembering another activity where we assumed a similar position. He carefully took the hem of my dress and wrapped a hand around the underside of my right leg, then stuck his head in. I smiled through the embarrassment, but had to grit my teeth as I felt his teeth on my skin. I, unfortunately, had to swat his shoulder. I heard him laugh, then he tugged the tossing garter from my leg pulling it all the way down with his teeth. When he pulled it off, he stood proudly and twirled the piece of ruffly dark blue and black fabric, a small motorcycle charm dangling from the bow.  
  
“Who’s next in here to tie the knot, boys?” he asked.  
  
I stood from the chair, picking up my bouquet.  
  
“Are we tossing both now?” I asked.  
  
Chibs shrugged.  
  
“I don’t see why not,” he replied.  
  
I nodded. Probably wasn’t the traditional way to do it, but everyone was either in a food coma or too drunk to care.  
Chibs stretched the elastic, then pulled it between two fingers and shot it at the men in attendance. It was a swarm to see who caught the garter, but Rat roared with laughter and pointed to the man who caught it.  
  
“TIG!” he shouted.  
  
Tig looked petrified. Chibs and I burst out laughing.  
  
“Okay, ladies!” I called.  
  
I hoped Vee caught the bouquet. Chibs grabbed me by the waist and hefted me up so I was at least an extra three feet off the ground. He turned us around, and I flung the bouquet backwards. The women in attendance swarmed, and to my delight, Venus caught the bouquet. Of course, she was also as tall as Tig in those pumps. Height was to her advantage, but I knew it was meant to be.  
  
“Baby!” Tig shouted happily.  
  
He ran to her and scooped her up. Chibs set me on the floor and I smiled up at him.  
  
“That’s going to be an interesting wedding,” I said.  
  
I yawned and shifted on my feet, my heels beginning to ache.  
  
“Aye,” Chibs agreed.  
  
He wrapped an arm around my waist.  
  
“Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ tired,” he said.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“A little,” I replied.  
  
He smiled and stepped in front of me, taking my hands in his and holding them between us.  
  
“How about this, then?” he suggested, “We head back to the room and I give ya a foot massage, and I spend all night lovin’ ya properly, like we didn’t get to do on the plane?”  
  
I smiled.  
  
“But, I ask that I get one last dance with my wife,” he finished.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Of course, baby,” I replied.  
  
He smiled and held my hand as we joined some of our guests on the dance floor. Chibs wrapped his arms around me, a slow love ballad playing over the speakers. I laid my head on his chest and closed my eyes. This was more than I ever imagined our wedding to be. We were in a world where our demons couldn’t catch us. There was nothing to be scared of, and we only knew each other. I wrapped my hands tightly around Chibs’ torso, keeping him safely in my arms, hoping his felt as secure as I did in his.  
Chibs reached behind him to take one of my hands. He brought it around to the front, holding it to his chest as we swayed lazily on the dance floor.  
  
“I love ya so much, Callie girl,” he said lowly, and kissed my forehead.  
  
I manipulated our a fingers so I could hold his hand and give it a gentle squeeze, noting the pair of silver rings on our fingers.  
  
“I love you, too, my sweet boy,” I replied, beat, but insanely happy.


	46. Scottish Nights

_”I loved her not for the way she danced with my angels, but for the way the sound of her name could silence my demons.”_ —Gomez Addams  
  
“So, is this your idea of crossing the threshold?” I asked.  
  
Chibs laughed.  
  
“I thought ya said your feet hurt?” he asked.  
  
I sighed.  
  
“They do, but you didn’t have to carry me like a Neanderthal!” I retorted.  
  
Chibs giggled and set me on my feet inside the suite.  
  
“Bridal style would have been fine with me. This would be the time for it,” I continued as he shut the door.  
  
He turned to me and smiled slyly.  
  
“Aye, but that is for when we return home, my love,” he said, then pecked my lips.  
  
I smiled, knowing his was right.  
  
“Now, you’re not too tired for this part, are ya? Because I’ve been dyin’ to get to this all day,” he went on, holding me by the waist.  
  
I laughed and patted his chest.  
  
“I’ve been dying to be alone with you, period,” I replied.  
  
Chibs grinned and eagerly kissed me, expressing his impatience. I had to be the one to pull away to escape.  
  
“Let me take these boots off and slip into the bathroom and I’ll be back,” I said.  
  
Chibs smiled, his eyes hooded.  
  
“‘Kay, love.”  
  
I pulled away from him and walked into the bathroom. I had yet to remove any clothing, but the socks and boots had to go, and I wanted to use the toilet and check my hair before sneaking a little bit of the honeysuckle perfume he loved so much onto my pulse points. With my dress, I couldn’t wear a bra, but there was a sexy little piece I had purchased not long after Vee and I went shopping for the dress that was hidden in my toiletry bag. I made sure to switch it on before I did anything else. As soon as I stepped out of my boots, severe pain shot through my feet. I gritted my teeth as I moved across the cold tile floor. Oh, I was looking forward to that foot rub.  
I quickly finished my business and checked my hair and makeup before walking back out into the room. When I stepped out, I found Chibs standing in front of the full-length mirror, arms folded across his chest, staring at me. His eyes were wide, changing dramatically from their hooded haze of lust and alcohol that he had worn most of the afternoon and into the night. They were dark, black in the dim light of the room, the only light source being the lamp on the nightstand. He stared at me with the same focus he assumed when shooting a gun, and for a moment he looked a little pissed. His face was hard, though not cold or malicious. Just determined. I was not sure how to react when not a grin, nor even a smirk crossed his lips.  
  
“Come here,” he said calmly.  
  
I swallowed nervously and slowly stepped away from the bathroom door. I was cautious, for I knew at any second, he was going to pounce. I had faster reflexes than he did, but with my aching feet and overall exhaustion, I would not be able to react quick enough. No, he had a plan. Or at least, so I thought.  
The intensity in his gaze, scared me a little. I couldn’t read him. Apparently, he knew he was making nervous, and relaxed his face a little. Still, he kept his eyes trained on me. His gaze turned from dark and predatory to hypnotic, and I found myself locked on him.  
  
“Closer,” he ordered.  
  
I obeyed and stepped up to him. His eyes were smoldering, and the way he was holding himself—his tone, even. It reminded me of someone. My exhaustion magically disappeared, as my heart rate picked up and all of my organs suddenly woke up. My brain was on the verge of overdrive and just turning to complete mush, my heart was thumping, my stomach had butterflies, and when I realized who he reminded me of, I wanted him, and I wanted him now!  
He took my left hand and kissed my knuckles, his eyes not leaving mine until he turned my arm over, revealing the tattoo there. His eyes were in the right light as he looked down, and his pupils widened completely. I heaved with a careful, deep breath, anxiously awaiting his next move. He lowered his nose to my pulse, and I knew he could smell the light, floral scent of the honeysuckle. His eyes scanned his name and I felt a puff of warm breath against the anarchy symbol. He opened his mouth, and his teeth grazed over the thin, sensitive skin. Heat flooded through me, and I let my eyes roll back with my head. I moaned softly as he kissed the tattoo, then trailed his lips around the top of my arm and made his way up. I held my breath as I watched him, every soft press of his lips making goosebumps erupt throughout my arms, then over my body. He trailed up to my shoulder, slowly wrapping an arm around my waist and taking my hand. Once he reached my shoulder, he twisted me around in one swift move. I gasped as he dipped me back. I gripped his biceps and stared up at him in surprise.  
  
“Mrs. Telford,” he said, slightly teasing, and a little cocky.  
  
Then, he dipped his head down to my neck. I tensed in anticipation as I felt his warm breath against my neck. Then, he sunk his teeth into the most sensitive part of my neck. Pleasure shot through me, and I went limp, closing my eyes and letting out a breathy moan, enjoying every second. Chibs kissed the skin he had bitten, then lifted his head and kissed me with absolute passion.  
  
“I’ll give ya that foot rub I promised,” he said as I reached up to stroke his cheeks, “Then, I want ya to show me what else ya can do with those hips.”  
  
I grinned.  
  
“So long as you show me what else you can do with your teeth,” I replied lowly.  
  
Chibs growled. He picked me up bridal style and gently, but impatiently, laid me across the bed. He captured my mouth before moving lower, kissing the mark that made me his before slipping down to the floor. I sat up and watched him curiously. He had a grasp on the hem of my dress and a predatory grin on his face.  
  
“Let’s get this other garter, shall we?” he asked, eyebrow arched.  
  
I smiled and watched as he stroked my legs, fighting the urge to lock then around him. He put his head back up my dress, but this time, I wanted to watch. I pulled the fabric back and watched him kissed up my leg to the more detailed garter that Venus had made. It was made of the same black and blue silk with a motorcycle charm, but there was also black laces that skirted the bottom, and the band was wider. Chibs kissed my thigh and took the garter between his teeth before slowly, agonizingly pulling at it. He slid it down my leg as he did with the other, then set it aside. He grabbed my hips, lifting me effortlessly and scooting me farther up the bed. He then climbed on top of me, straddling my thighs, and winked as he pushed the dress up farther. He was looking for more than just a lacy garter. He was looking for sexy lingerie. He was in luck.  
The piece that I picked out was not too extravagant, nor was it too risqué. Again, it was classy. Black lace, low on the hips, and barely enough to cover my ass. I felt it was appropriate, but I kept in mind its possible fate. My small collection of old, thin, ripped t-shirts that I normally wore to bed had dwindled from four to one, as Chibs had a habit of ripping them off of me. I didn’t expect him to keep the panties in one piece either, but that was okay. I wanted them off just as badly as he did.  
Chibs pushed the dress up over my hips and smiled approvingly. I sat up and took his face in my hands, kissing him passionately. His mind was on the fast track to sex. I wanted to distract him and slow him down for just a moment. He was impatient, naturally. Unless one of us was sick, we never went more than a day without spending time in the bedroom. Not that I was complaining. However, almost three days and a day without time to ourselves was driving us both crazy, but I didn’t want this to be like the aggressive, impatient moments in the apartment, or in the airplane lavatory. Chibs was too wound up to keep himself in check. He had made an effort, but I could see it in his eyes that he wanted to rush. I could feel it in his kiss.  
  
“Filip,” I said softly.  
  
My words went ignored as he kissed down my cheek and to the hollow beneath my ear.  
  
“Baby,” I said, reaching for his cheek and pulling his head back up.  
  
Chibs stopped raised his head to look up at me. I cupped his cheeks and locked my eyes with his. I said nothing as I stroked his cheeks with my thumbs. He relaxed and sighed.  
  
“I’m sorry, love. Tell me what ya want,” he said.  
  
I smirked.  
  
“Take off the cut,” I said.  
  
He grinned and gladly threw the leather to the floor.  
  
“What about that foot rub?” he asked.  
  
I smiled and took his goatee between my fingers.  
  
“Just love me,” I replied.  
  
His eyes clouded and he captured my lips in a slow, yet fiery kiss. I felt his fingers hook into the lace, and they were shredded in one swift movement.  
  
“I’ll buy ya more,” he said when we parted briefly.  
  
“Forget it,” I said breathlessly.  
  
For some reason, him ripping my clothes off always turned my arousal to 11.  
  
He took my mouth again, his tongue finding entrance. I blindly loosened his tie and unbuttoned his suit vest, pushing it from his shoulders. As great as he looked in it, he looked better bearing nothing but his beads.  
  
“Stand up, love,” he said.  
  
I did as I was told, and took his hand. He guided my shoulders around, carefully removed the rose clip from my hair and set it on the nightstand, then took the zipper of the dress and slowly unzipped it. As he did so, I felt a hand sweep my hair over my shoulder and lips press to the nape of my neck. My skin prickled and I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation. I helped him push the dress to the floor. I stepped out of it, and he picked up and draped it over the foot of the bed before wrapping his arms around me, hands grazing my stomach and cupping my breasts. I turned around and pulled him back into the bed, guiding him over me. He pulled at his belt buckle, and I finished uncovering his top half as he wriggled out of his jeans. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his pulse, eliciting a soft moan. He kissed the crow tattoo and trailed down my torso, teasing and fondling as he moved between my legs. I stared up at the canopy as I felt a hand wrap around my right leg. I looked down at him, and his eyes locked with mine. He glanced sideways and smirked as he fulfilled his promise to show me just what else he could do with his teeth.  
Chibs nipped the inside of my thighs, and my body remembered just how to react when those jolts of pleasurable electricity shot through me. Then his tongue flicked out, and I gasped. He would have me delirious and begging before he even got started. I reached down and grasped his head. His mouth found my center, and I was gone. I moaned softly, fingers tangling in his hair. He tongue found entrance, pleasuring me, his facial hair tickling me. He reached up, pulled one of my hands out of his hair and entwined our fingers. My heart skipped and I sighed. His free thumb rubbed me as his mouth worked its magic, sending everything into overdrive. I growled and arched my back. My body was on fire, and his ministrations were sending me right to the edge. My breathing was becoming erratic, and I’m sure the grip I had on his hair hurt, but he never said anything about it. The sounds that came out of my mouth were uncontrollable, and every pulse made me buck, aching for more—aching for him.  
  
“Filip,” I whimpered.  
  
He hummed, and the vibration of his deep voice sent me from teetering to falling. I growled before the full force of it hit me. I let go of him and gripped the sheets. I’m sure I looked like I was having an exorcism as I cried out and writhed, the lack of friction making it so much more intense. When I came down, and was able to open my eyes, Chibs was grinning, proud as hell of himself. I gritted my teeth.  
  
“Oh, that’s it!” I exclaimed.  
  
I grabbed him by an arm, yanked him up onto the bed and pushed him up into the pillows on his back. He smiled as I straddled his hips, proceeding to show him just what else I could do. When his eyes rolled back in his head, I knew I was doing something right.  
  
“Jesus! Tig was right. Hips don’t lie,” he groaned.  
  
I smiled and placed my hands on his sides for balance. He raised off of the pillows and took a breast into his mouth. I sighed and wrapped my arms around his head. I rode him slowly letting him became just as delirious as I had been. When it became too much, he turned us back over so he was on top. I wrapped my legs around his waist. He pinned me beneath him, prowling over me and sweeping his tongue through the Celtic knots in my crow’s wings. I let my eyes flutter closed. In twisting over, he had slipped out of me, but he realigned his hips and kissed me deeply.  
  
“I love ya so much, Callie girl,” he said softly, then kissed my cheekbones.  
  
He caressed my face, and I opened my eyes and smiled. I took the hand caressing my cheek and kissed my King’s knuckles.  
  
“I love you, too, Chibs,” I replied.  
  
He touched his forehead to mine and wrapped his arms around me. I held him by the shoulders. He lifted his head and locked his eyes with mine. I searched the pools of molten copper, finding nothing but adoration and pure love.  
  
“You’re stuck with me,” he said with a smile.  
  
I returned the smile.  
  
“I’m all yours,” I replied.  
  
Chibs kissed me fiercely, pushing into me. I gasped, relishing the feeling. Chibs was, in so many words, a lot of man. He filled me completely, never ceasing to be able to pleasure me. I tensed as his hips rocked against mine, his teeth lightly pulling at my bottom lip. I kissed his shoulder and up his neck, stopping at his scarred cheek.  
Chibs proceeded to show me how much he loved me, and tonight, everything was different. The sensations, the pleasure, the love. It was more than just being physically connected or emotionally connected. We were spiritually bonded. I was his, and he was mine, and it was magic. His hands memorized me. My lips explored him, showing him just how much I loved him. Filip was ecstasy. He was home. He was love and beauty, strength and power. He continued to leave me speechless with a nasty case of butterflies. It was only now that I understood why Venus referred to Tig as her savior.  
  
“My queen,” he whispered, then kissed the hollow beneath my ear.  
  
I could only soundlessly gasp. He took my hands, holding them near the sides of my head and kissed me with fervent passion as my mind clouded with the swirling pit of heat in my stomach. I felt the muscles in my shoulders tighten, and his breathing shallowed, both of us close. I forced my eyes open and watched him as we moved to the brink. I could feel him pulse with me. His forehead and chest bore a thin sheet of sweat, and his perfectly combed hair had fallen in his face. I let go of his hands and gripped his strong shoulders. He opened his eyes and locked his eyes with mine. I smiled at him. He smiled lovingly, but only briefly, as our pleasure took over. We brought each other to mutual orgasm, and neither of us bothered to be quiet. His moans made my pleasure intensify, and fireworks explode behind my eyes as he screamed my name. His shoulders shook with weakness, and I pulled him against me, hugging him. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me to him as we collapsed into afterglow.  
Today had been absolutely the most beautiful experience of my life, with the most beautiful man in my life, who had shown me the most beautiful act of love we had shared up to this point. He continued to do so throughout the next few hours, showing me that stamina Venus had told me about. I was absolutely of several things when we finally fell against each other one last time after a session we could have died happy from. I knew I was more madly in love with him than I was before, as he had indulged a few of my fantasies, and I, a few of his. However, he knew what he was doing was driving me insane desire. Love with Chibs could hardly be described, but I’ll say this:  
  
The man kissed like an Addams, but he bit like Lugosi.  
  
***  
  
Chibs has this uncanny ability to sleep on virtually anything. He could sleep peacefully stretched out across his Dyna if he had to, and claimed he was no stranger to a cold, hard floor. He had told me he had passed out drunk on every inch of the clubhouse, but mostly crashed on top of the bar, pool table, or just took a Crow Eater to the couch. He had assured me those were his crazy days, and were long since over, but had mentioned that I should never regret sending his ass to the couch if the day came. In being able to make peace with anything he laid upon, whether it be mattress or floorboards, he had become a sound sleeper. He fell asleep in one position and would rarely stray from it. I, on the other hand, was not the most sound. I, of course, had the tendency to have night terrors, but I tossed and turned throughout the night. Chibs said he did not notice it, but then again, when he was out, he was out. In a way, it made us compatible sleeping partners. However, it also meant a little bit of trouble, and I discovered the true meaning of becoming entangled within the sheets.  
Somehow, I had one leg locked around his, and that was all that saved me this morning. After last night’s lovemaking, we fell asleep in a tangled heap that one could not possible escape from—unless you were me. Unfortunately, I was me, and I had managed to fall out of the side of the bed upside-down, my foot tangled around his leg, bound by the sheets. I woke up dazed, staring up at the lit suite, feeling the sparse hair of Chibs’ leg rub against mine. I groaned and yanked my leg free, my butt falling to the floor and a pillow flying off of the mattress, where it tumbled to my left. I grunted and pushed myself to my feet to see Chibs had not moved. Pleased I had not woke him, I turned around, running my fingers back through my hair, scratching and yawning. My feet, though had been given the attention promised, still pained me. I had managed to bruise them, and as I started towards our luggage, I could more muscle soreness. I gritted my teeth before smiling knowingly. That Scottish bastard had made sure I would walk funny today.  
I turned back around and scanned the floor. I found Chibs’ dress shirt from yesterday, and threw it over my shoulders before grabbing a pair of panties from my bag and crawling back into bed, not wanting to move anymore. Chibs was laying on his side, his hair splayed everywhere, his torso bare. I crawled on top of him and lazily flopped over him. He wrapped an arm around me, pulled me back down to the mattress. Thinking he was asleep, I gasped and stared up at him in surprise. He just grinned.  
  
“Mornin’, love,” he said.  
  
The memory of last night showed itself with his toothy grin, and my body was set aflame. The feeling of the rough pads of his fingers gripping me, his breath in my ear and his hips grinding into mine. My own name being screamed into my ear and sending my mind through the clouds. My body defied the soreness, asking for it again.  
  
“Morning,” I said breathlessly.  
  
He smiled and kissed me softly. I smiled and cupped his cheeks.  
  
“I didn’t know you were up,” I said.  
  
He just hummed against my neck, stamping his lips down my jugular.  
  
“What time is it?” he asked.  
  
I turned my head and searched for a clock. He lifted his head, flinging his long hair back like a swimmer emerging from the water.  
  
“1:00,” he said.  
  
My eyes widened.  
  
“Hmm,” I said thoughtfully.  
  
He gazed down my body and shot me a mischievous look.  
  
“What are ya dressed for?” he asked, cocking his eyebrow.  
  
I smiled. I knew why he was asking, and I could see how it was driving him nuts already.  
  
“I don’t know. I was going to go take a shower,” I replied.  
  
He snorted. His fingers adjusted the hem of the dress shirt, which, inconveniently for him, covered my chest in a teasing fashion.  
  
“I think ya should wear my clothes more often,” he said lowly.  
  
I smiled and coaxed his head down to kiss him.  
  
“I’m going to go take a shower. Then we can go find something to eat. I’m starving,” I said.  
  
I slipped out from under him, went to my suitcase for a change of clothes, then looked back to him to see his eyes locked on me, watching my every move.  
  
“Saddle sore?” he asked teasingly.  
  
I shot him a glare.  
  
“Fuck you,” I said playfully, passing the bed.  
  
“Aye. That ya did, love.”  
  
I rolled my eyes. Jesus Christ!  
  
Chibs crawled to the foot of the bed.  
  
“Can’t I join?” he asked innocently.  
  
I stopped in my tracks and winked at him over my shoulder.  
  
“If you can catch me,” I teased.  
  
And that’s where I fucked up. Chibs’ notorious “Trouble Look” happened before I could catch it, and he shot out of the bed like a bat out of hell. I screamed and bolted into the bathroom. The tile slowed me down, the cold causing my feet to ache, and I vowed to never wear heels again. Chibs caught me, swung me around, my back hitting the back of the door and slamming it shut. He balanced me with one leg, swinging my legs around his narrow hips. I gripped his shoulders and he kissed me roughly—hungrily.  
  
“Let’s smear the hell out of the shower door. Give the maid somethin’ to do,” he said breathlessly.  
  
I couldn’t help but grin.  
  
“Get in there,” I said.  
  
He locked his lips with mine once more before we fought our way into the shower, our passion drowned out by the sound of rushing water.  
  
When we made it out of the suite about an hour later, we walked down to the from lobby, bored and hungry. We ate at the hotel’s lavish restaurant, where we found Montez and Quinn leaving, claiming they had no idea where everyone else was, but to not pass up the pork. Chibs tried it, but I settled for chicken, and could not get over the site of seeing him, this tattooed biker eat in such a high end and exceedingly romantic restaurant. Afterwards, we stopped at the front desk to check with the receptionist about this little “surprise” Chibs had in store.  
  
“It was delivered this morning, Mr. Telford. Here are the keys. It’s out in the parking lot,” the lady said, then smiled, “You and your wife have a lovely time.”  
  
Chibs smiled and thanked her, and I felt my cheeks heat up. Wife…it was still weird.  
  
“What did you have delivered?” I asked.  
  
Chibs linked his arm with mine.  
  
“Oh! Mr. Telford!” the receptionist called.  
  
We spun around just before the door to see the woman set a pair of helmets on the counter.  
  
“Don’t forget these!” she called.  
  
I felt my jaw drop, and I looked up at him. He smiled and handed me the keys. I looked at the pair of a keys with a BMW tag.  
  
“Go warm it up,” he said.  
  
I shot out of the door and in the parking lot, I found a tall, silver BMW motorcycle that looked brand new.  
  
“Holy shit,” I whispered.  
  
I approached it and looked it over, wondering how the hell I was going to ride the thing, much less get on to start it. Fortunately, Chibs came out and handed me my helmet.  
  
“Shit. That’s taller than I thought it would be,” he admitted.  
  
I nodded, observing all of the luxury features and bug-like beak.  
  
“And you guys said my bike looked like a Transformer,” I remarked.  
  
Chibs clipped his chin strap and laughed.  
  
“Aye.”  
  
I put my helmet on as he mounted the bike. He could foot it, but damn, the thing was wide!  
He started the bike and looked over at me.  
  
“Ya comin’, sweetheart?”  
  
I huffed.  
  
“I don’t get one?” I asked.  
  
He smiled.  
  
“Can ya ride on the wrong side of the road?” he asked.  
  
Ah, shit! I had forgotten about that!  
  
“Oh, fuck that!” I replied.  
  
He laughed and I approached the bike.  
  
“Couldn’t rent a Harley?” I asked.  
  
I held his shoulders and swung my leg over.  
  
“Nah,” he replied.  
  
I seated myself, the touring accessories making everything more comfortable.  
  
“Ready?” he asked.  
  
I smiled, wrapped my arms around him and kissed his shoulder.  
  
“Ready,” I replied.  
  
He revved the engine, which sounded more like a car with a whine than what I was used to, but nevertheless, it was smooth, quite heavy, and made an excellent addition to our adventure through the Highlands.  
We rode for about ten miles before we spotted a pair of bikes identical to ours on the side of the road. Next to them were a pair of familiar people, and we pulled over to greet Tig and Rat. Tig was leaning against his bike having a smoke while Rat was kicking a rock around, his phone stuck to his ear.  
  
“Did you rent out a bike for everyone?” I asked Chibs.  
  
He smiled.  
  
“How are we s’posed to get around?” he asked.  
  
I smiled and shook my head as I hopped down and pulled my helmet off. As I did, I felt a pain on the back of my head, and I winced. Chibs watched me worriedly. I reached back to feel a goose egg forming on the back of my head.  
  
“What’s wrong, darlin’?” Chibs asked.  
  
I gritted my teeth. Must have been from falling out of the bed this morning.  
  
“I thought ya bonked your head on the shower wall,” he said.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“I did, but I think this was from falling out of the bed,” I said.  
  
I could see him trying to hide his amusement.  
  
“Ya fell outta the bed?” he asked.  
  
I nodded. He snorted.  
  
“How?”  
  
I set my helmet in the rear seat of the bike.  
  
“Not with grace,” I replied sarcastically.  
  
Chibs laughed and snaked an arm around my waist.  
  
“C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s see what these idiots are up to.”  
  
I put my arm around his waist and walked up to our brothers. Tig smiled and held his arms up after flicking his cigarette.  
  
“It’s the newlyweds!” he exclaimed, then yanked us into a hug, “What are you two doing out and about? I thought you two would stay in all day.”  
  
Chibs shook his head.  
  
“We have two weeks to be in there,” he said.  
  
I tightened my arm around my Old Man.  
  
“Besides, we’ve had our fill for now,” I said.  
  
Chibs chuckled and Tig flinched.  
  
“Enough! I don’t wanna know!” he barked.  
  
We laughed at his reaction.  
  
“What are you two doin’ out here?” Chibs asked.  
  
Tig shrugged.  
  
“Only place you can get signal. Ratty’s talking to Brooke,” he said.  
  
We nodded.  
  
“Besides, I had to piss,” he continued, “We’ve been coming down here so he could call, and I’ve been trying to get his pussy ass to go check that house out up there.”  
  
Tig pointed, and we looked up a nearby driveway to see an old abandoned house at the top.  
  
“Ya sure it’s empty?” Chibs asked.  
  
Tig nodded.  
  
“Oh yeah,” he replied.  
  
Rat closed his phone and walked to us.  
  
“Hey, guys,” he greeted.  
  
Chibs and I said hi to him.  
  
“How’s Brooke?” I asked.  
  
He smiled.  
  
“She’s doing pretty good,” he replied.  
  
“Good,” Chibs said, then gestured to the house on the top of the hill, “Let’s go explore this thing.”  
  
Rat paled.  
  
“Not you, too!” he whined.  
  
I took Rat’s arm.  
  
“Don’t be a fucking pussy, Rat,” Tig snapped.  
  
Rat’s big brown eyes widened.  
  
“Then by all means, Pop, lead the way,” he retorted.  
  
Tig smiled proudly, turned on his heel, and Chibs and I followed, dragging a scared Ratboy behind us.  
The house was creepy, to say the least. A small yellow farmhouse, windows either broken or boarded up, frames around the windows in shambles, shingles missing, and two chimneys on either side in disrepair. Two storage shed were built on either side of the house, used to most likely house firewood. The front door was missing, and the fence posts of the wire fence surrounding the structure were starting to rot and fall over. We walked through the mud to the front entrance, only able to see a dirty wood floor and a dark hallway, white paint beginning to peel. Rat cautiously peered in and Tig shoved him.  
  
“You first!” he declared.  
  
Rat jumped and whipped around.  
  
“Fuck that!” he shouted.  
  
Chibs grabbed the boy’s shoulder and pushed him through the doorway.  
  
“Get in there!” he snarled.  
  
Rat cowered and walked in. I followed him, Chibs following me, not daring to let go of my hand, and Tig brought up the rear. The house was dark, and reeked of mold. The paint was peeling, there were holes in the walls, old hardware, dirt, dead bugs, and trash built up in the corners. It was by no means pretty.  
  
“Okay, I’m done,” Rat said.  
  
He tried to bolt, but Tig caught him.  
  
“There’s nothing in here! What? You don’t believe in ghosts, do ya?” he asked.  
  
“Yes,” not just Rat, but Chibs and I replied in unison.  
  
Tig’s wide blue eyes scanned us before rolling.  
  
“Oh, Jesus Christ! There’s no such thing as ghosts. And if so, they can’t hurt you,” he said.  
  
“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, Tiggy. This is Scotland—one of the most haunted places in the world. We’re not dealin’ with the spirits of pioneers of the Wild West. We’re dealin’ with somethin’ more ancient, and far more powerful than anythin’ at home,” Chibs explained.  
  
Tig was not phased.  
  
“You really believe in that shit?” he asked.  
  
Chibs’ eyes widened and he put his hands on my shoulders.  
  
“Don’t have to,” he replied, “I know it’s true.”  
  
As if on cue, something deep within the house made a thumping noise, and all of us jumped.  
  
“Shit!” Rat hissed.  
  
I smiled up at Chibs.  
  
“You woke the dead,” I teased.  
  
He, however, did not look so amused.  
  
“Or the homeless,” he replied.  
  
I cringed. I didn’t even think about that!  
  
Tig stepped forward.  
  
“I’ll go check it out. You guys stay here,” he said.  
  
We nodded and watched him move down a hall and disappear. We stood in what I assumed was the living room in silence before Chibs shuddered at nothing. I looked up at him worriedly, and noted the hairs on his arms standing on end.  
  
“What?” I asked.  
  
He pointed to the doorway to the kitchen.  
  
“I swear I just saw a shadow cross in there,” he whispered.  
  
Rat looked like…well, like he had seen a ghost.  
  
“Are you serious, man?” he asked.  
  
He nodded and walked around me.  
  
“C’mon,” he whispered.  
  
Rat groaned. I started to follow Chibs.  
  
“Ah, come on, Chibs!” he protested.  
  
Chibs glanced at him over his shoulder.  
  
“Ya can stay,” he said.  
  
Rat looked horrified and shot after us. We crept into the kitchen, staying right on our Prez’s heels. I held Chibs’ hand, not really scared, so much as nervous. I had had a handful of paranormal experiences in the past. I wasn’t scared of a ghost, but the fact that we were treading uninvited in a ghost’s, or possibly even, _ghosts’_ territory, was just a little unsettling. I was already tagged by a living person. The last thing I wanted was to be targeted by the dead. We explored the kitchen, finding nothing but dirt and linoleum from the 1950’s. There was trash. Bird and rat shit. Nothing much except for a possible respiratory infection.  
  
“You sure you saw something, Chibs?” I asked.  
  
He nodded. He looked around before leading us down another hall.  
  
“I wonder where Tiggy went,” I said quietly.  
  
“Yeah. I wonder if—“  
  
Chibs was cut off by a loud thump from over our heads. We cowered as dust and small pieces of paint and bugs fell from the ceiling.  
  
“We need to get out of here,” Rat said fearfully.  
  
“Let’s just find Tig first,” Chibs said.  
  
“Yeah,” I agreed, “before one of us gets an attachment.”  
  
Rat gulped.  
  
“That’s the last thing we need. Some Scottish curse,” he said.  
  
We walked down to the stairwell, finding no signs of our VP.  
  
“Tig?” Chibs called, “Rat’s scared. Let’s go.”  
  
The silence that followed was deafening.  
  
“Shit,” I said, breaking the silence.  
  
Chibs looked down at me worriedly.  
  
“You don’t think he tripped in the dark and knocked himself out, do you?” I asked.  
  
Chibs eyes widened.  
  
“Shit! I didn’t even think about that. Tig!”  
  
“Tiggy, we’re leaving!” I called.  
  
Then, all hell broke loose.  
  
“Guys! Run!” Tig screamed from the staircase.  
  
All we heard were footsteps, and that was all it took for us to trip over ourselves, Chibs grabbing me as we saw something dark move around the corner in the staircase. We screamed and booked it to the front door, shooting out into the fresh air and stopping at the fence to see if Tig survived. Over our loud breathing and pounding hearts, I could hear Tig laughing. Confused, the three of us exchanged glances before a fuzzy black and white goat ambled out the front door, glanced at us, then went on his way.  
  
“A fucking goat?” Rat squeaked.  
  
Tig stumbled out the door and fell to the ground, clutching his stomach and laughing so hard, his entire head turned red. Chibs growled, picked up a clump of mud, and slung it at Tig.  
  
“Ya piece of shit!” he snarled.  
  
That only made Tig laugh harder. A goat. A goddamn goat had taken residence in the abandoned house. No ghost to speak of.  
  
“That was a good one!” Tig laughed.  
  
“That was cruel,” I said.  
  
Rat shifted uncomfortably.  
  
“Can we go back to the hotel for a minute?” he asked.  
  
Chibs and I turned to see Rat stretching his shirt over his crotch.  
  
“Did ya piss yourself, boy?” Chibs asked loudly.  
  
“Man, fuck you!” Rat shouted.  
  
With that, Chibs and I died laughing, and Tig was in tears. He was proud that his prank had worked so well, and even though I would never, ever go ghost hunting with him again, I wondered what Chibs had seen in the kitchen. Maybe we would come back when everyone else went home. For now, Tig was going to head back to the hotel with Rat, while Chibs and I continued our adventure through the countryside, seeing what other trouble we could get into.


	47. Highland Adventure

Chibs and I had fallen into a wonderfully lazy and easy routine. When our brothers flew home, we spent the days enjoying our time alone, and loving that we did not have to rush or move or think. It was the break we had needed, and the silence would have made us nervous, had we been in Charming. Here, it was peaceful. Our minds reset. Our bodies refreshed. Our souls the most comfortable they had been since we met. I chalked it up to our stresses being miles and miles away, and the mystic world of green and tartan we had found ourselves in. It was a world Chibs and I learned to be complete in. Not the norms of a married couple, but the indulgences of two people who were madly in love with each other and had the freedom to express it. In the back of my mind, I knew that it didn’t matter where I was, so long as I was with him, relationship or not. However, since I watched him remove those ribbons, cords, and lace and slip the silver band over my ring finger, I noticed we were happier than before. Our souls were meant to be united. I was sure of that now.  
Every day was a new adventure that started with the slow routine of simply waking up. We did not wake up normally anymore. Chibs’ insomnia was always one problem we tackled—not that I minded. We all had our curses that we could not help. As much as he hated it, I spent countless waking hours with him, much to his disapproval. He’d rather me get the rest that I could so easily obtain. He didn’t understand that even before we had ever became more than friends, had I known about his demons, I would have held his hand and battled them with him. He was first and foremost, my best friend. Always would be. I could catch up on my sleep when his battle was over. Now, in the four poster of the wedding suite, we slept like we had not slept in years. So deeply, in fact, that we never heard our neighbors, birds, nighttime showers, or even our cell phones. When he awoke, we were always tangled in each others’ limbs. At first, I was annoyed by it. Chibs’ toe up my nose was not a pleasant thing to wake up to, but we realized that, whether it was the bed or this is just how our dormant bodies were after nights of passion, we would have to get used to it. I had quickly come to love it. Whether he had rolled on top of me, his face smashed into my collarbone and a heavy leg crossing my thighs, or my legs over his waist as he laid on his side across the width of the bed, an arm hugging my ankle. I liked the feeling of being held by him, no matter which body part was being secured. Besides, his sleep was precious, and far be it from me to wake him up to change positions. I was rarely uncomfortable, and he would be more than understanding, but I could take a sleeping arm or leg for his needed hours of rest. However, today, he felt differently.  
The lamp on the nightstand was the first thing to jump-start my heart and break me of what only felt like an hour or so of sleep. I jumped, clutching not the skin of my Old Man, but cold sheets. Panicked, I rolled over and looked to see his form bent over, pulling on a pair of jeans.  
  
“What are you doing, babe?” I asked, my voice hoarse from disuse.  
  
He buttoned his jeans and looked up at me. He smiled warmly, then prowled across the bed and leaned down, pressing soft lips and scratchy facial hair to my lips.  
  
“Come on,” he said softly, smiling, “Get dressed.”  
  
I just yawned.  
  
“What time is it?” I asked.  
  
“Early,” he replied, “Let’s go. We have to hurry if we’re gonna make it in time.”  
  
I groaned, annoyed.  
  
“Ah, don’t give me that, love,” he said, pushing himself back off the bed.  
  
“You know I hate being woken up,” I complained, closing my eyes and trying desperately to find that deep sleep.  
  
“It’ll be worth it,” he sang, “I promise.”  
  
I smiled, eyes remaining closed. His tone was light and playful for this ungodly hour, whatever time it was. He had a plan.  
I opened my eyes and rolled over to see him pulling an army green t-shirt over his head.  
  
“I hope so,” I teased.  
  
Chibs smirked and pinned me between his arms, hair falling in his face.  
  
“Don’t ya trust me, darlin’?” he asked.  
  
I smiled up at him.  
  
“I do,” I replied.  
  
He grinned and pecked my lips.  
  
“Then come on. Ya don’t need to be pretty for it. Just make sure ya wear jeans and a jacket. We’re goin’ somewhere special,” he said.  
  
I smiled. Somewhere special with Chibs was always an understatement. His special places always seemed to be so much more to me, and I couldn’t imagine what sort of thing he had found for us to do in the beautiful Highlands.  
  
“And where is this special place?” I asked.  
  
He smiled warmly.  
  
“Not far,” was all he said.  
  
I grinned and kissed him. Special was always within reach for him.  
  
I did as I was told, and dressed in a pair of jeans, t-shirt, then tennis shoes and a jacket before brushing my hair and teeth, grabbing my bag, and heading downstairs with Chibs. We walked out into what was just barely dawn. We reached the BMW, and he climbed on before I mounted behind him. He started the bike, and I hugged his torso, fighting sleep, and wishing that I could see the world beyond the headlights.  
We drove for about four miles before Chibs pulled off onto a country road and up a hill. I looked around, noticing there wasn’t a light pole for miles. We were deep in the countryside now, and it was so nice. Reminded me of home, if only a little.  
  
“Should be up here!” Chibs called over his shoulder.  
  
I perked up and looked around. We drove up a hill and around a small corner, pulling over at the bend. Chibs killed the engine and put the kickstand down. He pulled his helmet off and I followed suit. Down the hill you could see the world below, including the hotel and the lake behind it.  
  
“What’s up here?” I asked.  
  
He dismounted, only to remount backwards and sit facing me. He smiled and took my hands.  
  
“The best view,” he replied.  
  
I tilted my head to the side.  
  
“View of what?” I asked.  
  
Before he could reply, a beam of orange light hit his eyes. We turned our heads to see the very top of the sun peeking over the hills in the distance, morning light flooding through the shadows on the impossibly green landscape. I realized then why Chibs woke me up at such an early hour. Sure, it was a sunrise. You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all, right? Not entirely. The clouds were painted orange and pink, and orange glittered across the lake. The sun’s rays crossed over the hotel and surrounding trees, and it was like looking at painting, or watching a nature show on television. But this was not a painting, or a show. However, it was a work of art. The Highlands were waking up, and seeing it in person was unbelievable. I had seen the sun set over California—my world. Today I was witnessing it rise in Scotland—Chibs’ world. It gave me goosebumps. I already felt so connected with the country, and not just through Chibs. I had made my own footprints in it. There was something about it that moved me.  
I looked up at Chibs as he squinted, chestnut eyes taking in the sun rise, as he had neglected to remember his sunglasses. We had barely had any sleep, and he had such an expressive face, exhaustion always shown through. However, since arriving and getting over the evil known as jet-lag, he had seemed so refreshed, as if being on his home-turf had renewed him. Maybe I was sleep deprived and needed caffeine, and maybe it was just the picturesque sunrise, but he had never look more beautiful, and every time we went on these little adventures, finding nature’s little treasures. Death and misfortune followed SAMCRO like a dark shadow, but it seemed that light followed Chibs.  
I reached up to touch his left cheek and turned his head to face me. He looked at me curiously and smiled. I cupped his face and kissed him deeply, the sudden gesture taking him off-guard for a moment. Before he could overcome the initial surprised I hugged him tightly. He wound his arms around me. I closed my eyes and cradled the back of his head. He had thick skin, but he was fluffy on the inside, and he had such a beautiful soul.  
  
“Love it that much?” he asked with a chuckle.  
  
_Not as much as I love you_ …  
  
I laid my head on his shoulder and looked out at the world below in the space between his neck and goatee.  
  
“It’s beautiful, baby,” I replied softly.  
  
He pressed his lips to the side of my head and rubbed small circles into my back.  
  
“Receptionist said this was the best view of the sunrise over the hotel,” he said.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Guess that’s the suggestion they give to all of the honeymooners,” I said.  
  
He chuckled.  
  
“I asked, actually,” he admitted.  
  
I pulled back to look up at him, raising an eyebrow questioningly. He smiled shyly and shrugged.  
  
“Shut up,” he mumbled.  
  
I smiled and kissed his cheek.  
  
“You’re such a sensitive person under that leather,” I said, half teasing.  
  
He sighed and nuzzled the side of my head. I reached up and patted his chest.  
  
“Don’t tell anyone,” he said.  
  
I laughed and raised up. I smiled and wound my arms around his neck.  
  
“What? Don’t want the club to know that their Prez is a big softy?” I teased.  
  
He grinned.  
  
“Shit. They’ve seen me freak out and cry before. Nothin’ new,” he said, glancing down nervously, “Just makes me sound like a girl.”  
  
I smiled and butted his forehead, making him grin.  
  
“It’s okay. I won’t tell. Besides, I’d much rather keep your soft side all to myself,” I replied.  
  
Chibs smiled, dimples deepening on the sides of his mouth. I pecked his lips and tucked his hair behind his ears.  
  
“Sweet boy,” I said softly.  
  
He smiled and kissed me, the sun warming our sides facing east.  
  
“I have more to show ya today, but for now, how about we head back, get some sleep, then go grab some lunch and explore?” he suggested.  
  
I smiled and nodded.  
  
“Right behind you, sweetheart.”  
  
Chibs smiled and kissed me before we watched the sun rise over the Highlands for a few moments more.  
  
***  
  
Chibs and I found a little restaurant on our adventure, who served the best beef stew I had ever had in my life. We made a note to return before our flight back to the States. Food in Scotland, especially in family restaurants, was hearty, and in this particular restaurant, fresh and homemade. They served a lot of things I wanted to try, a lot of seafood, which I had never been a fan of, and some stuff that was just too bizarre for me. Hell, some was too bizarre for Chibs, but we enjoyed our stew, and Chibs had stuffed himself silly on shortbread. It was his favorite, and he had had a hard time finding what he considered “good” shortbread back home. He had only found one place, and it had since closed down. I made a mental note to find a cookbook, as I wanted him to have a recipe, and I definitely wanted to know how to make that stew.  
After lunch, we made it about 30 minutes north before stopping for a bathroom break. I had finished before Chibs, and wandered around the parking lot, kicking a rock before I heard a loud moo. I looked up to see a field behind the small building. Beyond the fence was a small herd of chestnut colored cattle, and closest to the fence was a creature that looked like a living teddy bear. I gasped when I realized it was a calf, who could have only been a month or so old.  
I walked up to the fence to see several stocky, hairy Highland cattle, their only calf staring at me, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air. I waved to the little creature.  
  
“Hi, buddy,” I said in a high-pitched voice.  
  
The calf’s ears pricked forward and he stuck his tongue out.  
  
“C’mere,” I said in a squeaky voice.  
  
I made kissing noises, and to my surprise and delight, he tossed his head and loped towards me. I watched behind him, waiting to see what the mother did. None of the adults took any notice, and the happy little calf wagged his fuzzy tail and sniffed at me. I looked around at the ground and found some tall weeds growing up from the fence post. I knelt down, ripped the weeds from the ground, and offered them to the calf. He didn’t hesitate, and chomped down on the weeds. I smiled and watched as he tossed his head and chewed. He was in arms reach, and the urge to pet his fuzzy head was unbearable.  
  
“Can I pet you?” I asked.  
  
The calf batted his long, beautiful eyelashes. I carefully reached over to pet him, and instead of fleeing, he pushed his head against me, enjoying the scratch. I smiled and scratched his head and behind his ears, wanting to gush at how utterly soft and furry his ears were. He was adorable.  
The sound of footfalls alerted the calf, and he looked up suddenly. I turned my head to see Chibs approaching with his hands in his pockets. The calf waited, and when he decided Chibs didn’t pose a threat, he chewed the rest of his weeds and I resumed petting him.  
  
“Makin’ friends?” Chibs asked.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“They must be used to people. He came right up to me,” I said.  
  
I looked up at Chibs to see him smile.  
  
“He’s so cute,” I said.  
  
Chibs reached a tentative hand up and petted the calf.  
  
“I think he needs a haircut,” he said.  
  
I snorted and laughed. A heifer within the herd mooed, and the calf quickly forgot about us and galloped back to the group. The heifer, who I assumed was the calf’s mother, stared at us through long, reddish-brown hair. They really were beautiful creatures, and as I slipped an arm around Chibs’ waist, I decided that Highland cattle were not the only beautiful things to come out of Scotland.  
Chibs put his arm around me.  
  
“Ya ready?”  
  
I nodded. We turned around, and I said goodbye to the cows before walking back to the bike. Chibs and I put our helmets on and I climbed up behind him.  
  
“How much farther do we have to go?” I asked.  
  
Chibs turned his head.  
  
“Not far. We got about an hour,” he replied.  
  
I nodded and tightened my arms around him. He started the bike, and we went on our way to catch the ferry to the Isle of Skye, where today’s adventure would take place.  
The Isle of Skye was Scotland’s largest island, and one of the attractions the hotel had been promoting, along with tours of Fort William, Ben Nevis, their tallest mountain, and the Jacobite train from Fort William to Mallaig and back. The Isle of Skye had quite a few things to do, including visiting the museums, shopping, castles, and pubs. None of the interested us. We wanted to see the sights from the cliffs and the coast, and planned to just explore from the road, and do the rest by foot before catching the ferry and rushing back to the hotel, as we been warned about bad weather coming in.  
Our first stop was the hike to the fairy pools, which to two hyper bikers, did not seem like a practical thing we’d be interested in, but we had enough of adrenaline rushes at home. We had not been entirely sure where the parking lot was, but Chibs spotted the sign before I did. The island was steeped deep in Gaelic culture, and I noticed many of their signs were in Gaelic, with English subtitles at the bottom. Thankfully Chibs knew Gaelic, because I would have completely missed the tiny letters that spelled “Fairy Pools.”  
We dismounted the bike and I set my helmet on the seat, cracking my neck and looking around. There weren’t many cars, and it seemed we would be making our hike accompanied by a family with a pre-teen who looked like she could care less, and younger child that looked in need of a nap. Chibs got one look at them and curled his lip in disgust.  
  
“Great,” he said sarcastically, “I was hopin’ there wouldn’t be many people out here. Not with kids, anyway.”  
  
I nodded in agreement. Chibs removed the keys from the bike and put them in his pocket.  
  
“Maybe we can get ahead of them,” I said hopefully.  
  
Chibs gave a small smile and tossed an arm around my shoulders.  
  
“Aye,” he agreed.  
  
We began to walk across the parking lot, passing the family who were busy getting themselves situated.  
  
“I think, when we get home, you need to teach me Gaelic. If I were driving, I would have missed that sign,” I said.  
  
“Not from around here, are ya, lass?” an unfamiliar voice asked.  
  
Chibs and I halted and turned to see the father of the family walking towards us, a water bottle in his head and a backpack slung over his shoulders. He was a tall guy, Chibs’ height, pale with short red hair, neatly combed to the side, and matching red stubble. He was built, wearing only mesh black shorts and a tight gray t-shirt. He seemed like one of those guys who had to hit the gym every day and gorged themselves on protein shakes. I wasn’t sure if it was for that reason, but there was something about him that put me off.  
  
“No,” I said stiffly.  
  
I really didn’t appreciate people eavesdropping either.  
  
“Vacationing?” he asked.  
  
“Aye,” Chibs said, pulling me closer, securing a protective arm around my waist, “We’re from Glasgow.”  
  
I bit my lip, trying not to smile at his lie.  
  
“Oh yeah?” the ginger man asked, “We’re from Edinburgh. The girls wanted to see the fairy pools, and my wife’s got family up here.”  
  
Behind him, one of his girls started screaming and throwing a temper tantrum. Yeah, they seemed _thrilled_.  
The man glanced down at my chest, his eyes falling upon my tattoo. I had not worn anything revealing, but it didn’t keep me from getting pissed.  
  
“Ya say ya don’t read Gaelic, yet ya have it tattooed on ya,” he said.  
  
I narrowed my eyes at him, but before I could say something witty, his youngest burst out into a round of tears.  
  
“If you don’t hush now, we’re not going for ice cream,” the mom said.  
  
“Just had to come at nap time,” the man said, closing his eyes.  
  
“Then maybe they should go home and nap, yeah?” Chibs asked, getting an attitude.  
  
The man set his jaw.  
  
“They’re spoiled rotten. Can’t get ‘em to mind anythin’ I say,” he said.  
  
“Well, maybe you should bust their asses,” I said impatiently.  
  
The guy’s jaw fell.  
  
“It sounds like they need some kind of discipline,” I sassed.  
  
Anger washed over his face.  
  
“Hey! You can’t tell me how to raise my kids!” he snapped.  
  
Chibs moved like lightning. His hand grabbed the man’s neck, and in seconds, his face was purple. Thankfully, the mother was preoccupied with her spoiled and most likely nap-deprived children to notice.  
  
“And don’t ya dare look at her chest like that again, ya slimy piece of shit!” Chibs snarled.  
  
“I wasn’t lookin’ at her chest like anything!” the man choked out, “If she had any respect—“  
  
“Let me tell ya somethin’, fucker!” Chibs snapped, his grip tightening, “If you had any respect, ya would keep your eyes off of her chest, and on her eyes. Ya obviously don’t, though, ‘cause you’re avoidin’ all interaction with your screamin’ brats, leavin’ your poor wife to take care of two at once. They obviously don’t repect you, either. Now, you’re gonna turn around, and help your fuckin’ wife, or I’ll kick your ass right in front of them.”  
  
The man coughed.  
  
“Yeah. Fine,” he gasped.  
  
Chibs shoved him away with a growl. The guy scrambled away, and we watched as he returned to his family and firmly scolded his children for acting up in public.  
  
“What do you think they did to create such bratty kids?” I asked.  
  
Chibs’ arm snaked around my waist.  
  
“They don’t tell them no,” he replied.  
  
I nodded in agreement, and watched as the oldest children sassed her dad. I sighed.  
  
“If we ever have kids, we’re not raising them like that,” I said.  
  
Chibs chuckled.  
  
“Aye. Ya can spoil them to a certain extent, though,” he said.  
  
I raised an eyebrow at him.  
  
“That the kind of parent you’re gonna be? The Plan B when Plan A says no?” I asked.  
  
He smiled warmly and turned, leading us away from the yuppie family.  
  
“Maybe,” he said playfully.  
  
I laughed and looped my arms around his waist. We walked up to the trail and began the hike to the pools. I didn’t know how he had been with Kerrianne, if he was even able to bond with her or not, but I had seen how he was with his honorary nephews, and that paternal instinct was strong. I had no doubt in my mind he would parent the right way, and not they way the yuppies with the van did. He would raise them to be as respectful of us and others as they would themselves, and I for one had no patience for the whining.  
  
“Guess that kinda put a kink in our otherwise great honeymoon,” Chibs said bitterly.  
  
I smiled and shook my head.  
  
“No, baby,” I replied, “That was beautiful.”  
  
Chibs laughed.  
  
“Oh, ya liked that, huh?” he asked.  
  
We stopped just before reaching a stream where we could cross by way of stepping stones.  
  
“Mhmm,” I said, “Think you might get a reward for that one.”  
  
Chibs stepped up to me, smiling mischievously.  
  
“Mmm,” he hummed, “Liked watchin’ me get mean?”  
  
I held his sides.  
  
“I like seeing you get protective,” I whispered.  
  
Chibs smirked and kissed me. Yes, he would definitely be getting rewarded for that.  
  
“Although, I don’t think he was looking at my tits,” I said.  
  
Chibs smiled and shrugged. He took my face in his hands and locked his eyes with mine.  
  
“No one messes with my Old Lady,” he said.  
  
I smiled and reached up to kiss him, this time with more ferocity.  
  
Down the trail, we heard the family with the whiny children. Chibs and I broke away from each other.  
  
“We better keep movin’,” he said.  
  
I nodded in agreement. Chibs took my hand and led the way across the wet stepping stones and up the trail.  
Even for summer, it was cool this afternoon, the cloud cover blocking out the sun. Wind swept over the field we were walking through, causing the grass to wave like the ocean. A sea of waving green and purple. I noticed that parts of the Highlands were loaded with this purple plant.  
  
“What’s this purple stuff?” I asked as we carefully stepping over a low, muddy spot.  
  
“Wild heather,” he replied.  
  
“Ah.”  
  
From the trail, it looked like lavender, but I wasn’t too savvy with plants.  
  
We soon found the pools, which were deep pools at the feet of waterfalls with unique rock formations and the clearest water I had ever seen, only rivaled by the lake at the cabin back home.  
  
“Oh my gosh, Chibs!” I said excitedly, and walked ahead of him to get closer.  
  
“Wow. I bet that water is cold,” he said.  
  
I sat down on the rocky surface at the edge of the pool and reached down. My hand cramped when the icy water made contact with my skin.  
  
“Yup!” I said, shaking the water droplets from my fingers.  
  
Chibs laughed.  
  
“I dare ya to get in it,” he challenged.  
  
I snorted.  
  
“Hell no! Sure I’d get in trouble, anyway,” I said, pushing myself to my feet.  
  
“Nah,” he said, “People swim in here all the time.”  
  
I smiled and took his hand, leading me around the pool.  
  
“Be nice back home, though. That California heat,” I said.  
  
“Fuck California. Fuck summer, too,” he bitched.  
  
I laughed and with that, we explored the rest of the pools. I took a few pictures, including a selfie of us in front of one of the larger waterfalls. We explored for a long time, losing track of the minutes as we marveled the deep pools full of smooth and strange rock, carved by years of water erosion, the mountains in the background, and challenged ourselves to find the highest point for the best view. We found ourselves high above the pools, sitting on the rock and looking over the Isle of Skye’s most beautiful feature. After our steep climb, I sat down and took a break while Chibs stood at my side, hands in his pockets, hair being whipped around by the wind. I looked up at him and smiled to myself.  
Since arriving in his home country, his stresses that club life brought had melted away. I wouldn’t say he was different, but he was renewed. Hell, I felt renewed! Chibs was in his element here. He was from Glasgow, which was a big city in the Scottish Lowlands, but he seemed entirely at home here. Maybe it was that he was so highly adaptable to any environment, but here…he seemed to shine. He had been Californianized to a certain extent. The summer had given him a tan, and even my pasty ass had browned a little. We were definitely darker than the locals, but still. His accent fit. His ancestors were buried here. His sister, who he had lost all contact with, had to be somewhere in Scotland, if not somewhere in England. Even as the President of SAMCRO now, I could tell he had been the oddball since his arrival to Charming. He had told me some of his history, and Tig, the rest. The thick accent, the evidence of his roots that he displayed with pride, his ties to the IRA, and he was fluent in the Celtic languages—languages of which were never spoken in California, for the only thing we heard was Spanish and a handful of Asian languages. He could drive on both sides of the road, had a grasp on both money and measurement systems, but here in the Highlands, he fit perfectly. It made me wonder if he missed it. I knew he spent a lot of his childhood in Ireland, but it made me wonder if he would decide to move back one day. Perhaps retire here.  
I sighed as I tore my eyes away from him. The beautiful scenery, mixed with how handsome he looked today, wearing a pair of fitted dark jeans, his black leather jacket, and purple KD’s—it made me wish I didn’t have to remove him from this world in a few days. I didn’t want to leave either.  
Chibs sat down on my left and reached to his left for something. He ripped something out of the ground and handed it to me. I smiled when I saw a single stalk of little purple flowers, which oddly enough, smelled like a mixture of honeysuckle, and Chibs’ shampoo.  
  
“Here, love,” he said.  
  
I felt heat rush to my cheeks as I took the plant.  
  
“Thank-you.”  
  
Chibs linked his arm with mine and laid his head on the side of mine.  
  
“None of this bores ya?” he asked.  
  
I twiddled the plant and smiled.  
  
“Why would it bore me?” I asked.  
  
He shrugged.  
  
“Meh. I dunno. Just thought ya may be into doin’ somethin’ a little more fast-paced,” he said.  
  
I smiled and shook my head.  
  
“No, no. I like stuff just like this. Exploring. Seeing something new. Being able to relax and having you to myself,” I said.  
  
Chibs smiled. I laid my head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my hairline.  
  
“Yeah, me too,” he said softly.  
  
I hugged his arm and absorbed his warmth as the wind began to pick up.  
  
“These have been some of the best two weeks I’ve had in my life,” he said.  
  
I looked up at him and smiled so widely that it hurt my cheeks.  
  
“I love you, Callie girl,” he said.  
  
I coaxed his head down and kissed him softly.  
  
“I love you, too, Chibs.”  
  
He smiled and pecked my lips once more before looking passed me, his eyes locking on something in the west.  
  
“Ah shit,” he said.  
  
I looked over my shoulders and could see dark clouds moving in from the west. It was the storm we had been warned about.  
  
“We better head back. Don’t wanna get rained on,” he said.  
  
He stared to stand, I held his hand out to help me up. I took it and stood beside him. The heather was still in my hand, and I pocketed it. I had purchased only a few souvenirs, but I found the little purple flowers much more special. If they survived the trip back to Fort William, I would put them in a book I had brought with me, pressing them and hopefully preserving them until I found a better way to store them when we returned home.  
Chibs clasped my hand and we began the descent back down to the pools.  
  
“Wanna race?” I asked playfully.  
  
Chibs shot me a weird look.  
  
“Why? Ya think ya stand a chance against me?” he asked.  
  
I laughed.  
  
“I know I do,” I challenged.  
  
His eyes darkened and he smiled slyly.  
  
“Prove it,” he said.  
  
I grinned and bolted, Chibs hot on my heels as we skid and hopped over rocks on our journey to the trail, laughing and screaming at each other like two little kids. I knew our sudden rush back down to the parking lot would not save us any time from beating the rain, but seeing Chibs laugh and play was worth it.  
  
***  
  
Upon arriving at Inverlochy Castle Hotel, we had barely missed the rain. As soon as the bike was parked, the rain came pouring down with the rumbling of thunder. Chibs and I took off running, but it was no use. We were soaked as soon as we were off the bike. Halfway to the front door, he grabbed my arm and stopped me.  
  
“Wait, wait, wait!” he called over the sound of the wind and water falling around us.  
  
I scoffed and turned to face him.  
  
“What?” I asked in surprise.  
  
He smiled mischievously.  
  
“Always wanted to do this,” he said.  
  
Before I could ask, he cupped my cheeks and kissed me passionately. I melted immediately. Never had I pinned Filip Telford one for watching sunsets and sunrises and kissing in the rain, but then again, he was a man of mystery.  
When we decided kissing in the rain was not worth pneumonia, we ducked out of the storm and into the hotel. We shrugged our wet jackets off and made our way through the lobby and up the stairs, trying our hardest not to drip too much water onto the hardwood. We jogged up to our room and Chibs quickly unlocked it with shaking heads. Inside, our room was chilled, and I yelped at the sudden rush of cold air.  
  
“Goddamn!” I hissed.  
  
Chibs pushed his leather jacket off, tossed it through the open bathroom door, and rushed over to the fireplace.  
  
“I’ll try to get this goin’. You go get changed into somethin’ dry before ya catch a cold,” he said.  
  
I agreed and quickly grabbed a pair of sleepwear before ducking into the bathroom to change and towel-dry my hair. Then, I took my shoes back out into the room to let them dry by the fire. Chibs had the gas fireplace roaring, and kissed my forehead as he rushed by and slipped into the bathroom. I shivered, dressed in a camisole and sweatpants. I grabbed the comforter and a pillow and parked my chilled body in front of the fireplace, curling up against the pillow and warming up. The fire felt amazing.  
  
“Hey, Callie?” Chibs called from the bathroom.  
  
I sighed. Of course…  
  
“Yeah?” I asked.  
  
“Can ya bring me a change of clothes, please?”  
  
I stood up from my warm nest and moved over to the couch where our luggage was strewn. I grabbed one of his old tees, boxers, socks, and a pair of sweatpants before closing the lid of his suitcase and bringing his clothes to him. I found him in front of the sink, a towel around his waist. He was towel-drying his hair and was just tossing it as I entered.  
  
“Here, baby,” I said.  
  
He turned to me and smiled.  
  
“Thank-you, sweetheart,” he said.  
  
He took the clothes and set them on the counter. He took a comb from his toiletry bag and began to comb the tangles out of his hair.  
  
“It’s fuckin’ cold in here,” he complained.  
  
I smiled and moved behind him, slipping my arms around his waist poking my head out from behind him. He smiled and set his comb down.  
  
“Come warm up by the fire,” I said.  
  
“I’m comin’. Just let me get dressed,” he said.  
  
I took his arms and smiled devilishly.  
  
“You won’t need them,” I said.  
  
His eyes widened.  
  
“I like the sound of that,” he said.  
  
I laughed and led him out of the bathroom. He followed me obediently to the nest in the floor and sat down, replacing the towel with the comforter. I sat beneath him as he captured my mouth and wrapped his arms around me.  
  
“Is this my reward?” he asked.  
  
I smiled and nodded. He grinned and locked his mouth on my neck. We remained in the warmth of the fire for a few hours before our appetites turned from the pleasures of the body to the pleasure of food. We called for room service, and dared get one more round in before the food came. Chibs pulled me up into his lap, impaling me further. I groaned and gripped his shoulders. We moved together, no sounds made except for our heavy panting. He locked his mouth onto one of my breasts. I gasped and cradled the back of his head. His hands roamed my sides before gripping my hips. He freed me and looked up at me.  
  
“God,” he breathed, his eyes locking with mine.  
  
I cupped his cheeks.  
  
“What is it, Filip?”  
  
A smile slowly formed, and he sighed.  
  
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he said.  
  
I just smiled and thanked him by assaulting his lips. He growled and bucked, his muscles tensing and his thrusts becoming shorter and quicker. I put my arms around his neck, focusing and soon losing all sense of reality. Chibs wrapped one arm around my waist, dipped me back and balanced us on one arm as he tipped over the edge.  
  
“Callie!” he breathed out, “Shit!”  
  
He reached his peak, and I soon followed, falling hard and gripping his shoulders tightly. I squeezed my eyes closed and my muscles locked as I reached climax.  
  
“Fuck, Chibs,” I hissed.  
  
Chibs let out a relieved breath and pressed his lips gently to mine just as room service arrived.  
  
***  
  
The next morning, our last day in Fort William, we went to the train station to catch the Jacobite to Mallaig. Neither of us cared to go to Mallaig. We just wanted to take it easy, ride the train, and see the sights, some of which made famous by the Harry Potter movies, and enjoy spending quiet time with each other. We got first class tickets, and as we seated ourselves in one of the armchairs, which I was surprised to find (versus leather benches), a man passing on his way to his seat told us we had gotten the good side. However, his accent was so thick, I just had to smile and nod. Luckily, Chibs translated for me.  
It was rainy today, and for the first branch of the trip, the rain poured down. It was hard to see, but thankfully, it let up just as we reached the part of the trip I had anticipated the most: the Glenfinnian viaduct. I took several pictures with my phone, then some more of the Scottish countryside, Chibs getting excited about spotting certain animals and how the mountains were almost in the clouds. It was beautiful, to say the least, and the tunnels, though a little scary to some of the small children, were one of the coolest parts.  
In Mallaig, Chibs and I explored and grabbed lunch before catching the train back to Fort William. The sun was now shining down on the Highlands, and the sway of the train relaxed us. As we watched the green countryside pass by, I couldn’t help but feel a little sad that this was our last day. We would get to see our brothers, sure, and it would be nice to be home, but Charming was not the same magical world as Scotland, and I had reservations about removing Chibs from his homeland again. Back to the stressful world again.  
  
“Hey, Chibs?” I asked.  
  
He yawned and looked down at me.  
  
“Yes, love?”  
  
I perched my chin on his shoulder.  
  
“Do you miss it here?” I asked.  
  
He sighed.  
  
“Well, ya know I didn’t grow up in Scotland. I grew up in Ireland,” he reminded me.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“I know. I just thought that you might miss all of this,” I replied.  
  
“Well, I do miss not bein’ able to grow up here. Miss the cooler, wet weather. But, home is where the club is,” he said.  
  
I nodded. I couldn’t argue with that.  
  
“Let’s move SAMCRO to the Highlands. SAMSCOT,” I said stubbornly.  
  
Chibs laughed and laid his head on mine. We fell silent for a moment. Chibs took my hand, lacing his fingers with mine.  
  
“Club permittin’, we can go wherever ya like for our anniversary next year. Except Ireland,” he said.  
  
I laughed at that. I already knew where I wanted to go.  
  
“Here,” I said.  
  
He lifted his head and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.  
  
“Ya like it here that much?” he asked.  
  
I gave him a guilty smile. I had really come to love Scotland, and in our post-wedding bliss, had not found the time to fully explore the country. I wanted to see more.  
  
“I do,” I replied.  
  
Chibs wrapped an arm around me.  
  
“Yeah, me too,” he agreed.  
  
These past two weeks had exceeded my expectations. The wedding was wonderful, but being able to unwind and spend time with my Old Man without any worries was amazing. Chibs had outdone himself, and Scotland would always be a place I would think about when times at home got tough. It was a magical and beautiful little country, and Chibs and I would always consider it as a place where we started anew, and I would never forget the little romantic gestures or the shenanigans we got up to. I knew moving there at the moment was out of the question, and I would be happy anywhere, so long as I was with him, but I hoped one day, when we were too old and decrepit to ride, we could live the rest of our lives in his homeland. Either way, I knew one thing was for certain, and that was I had fallen even deeper in love with Chibs, and I was proud to be his Queen.


	48. Homecoming

The rumbling of motorcycles was a familiar sound in Charming—one that almost went unnoticed, yet still made people nervous. Children stared in wonder, and parents pulled them closer in fear. The population was split in two that way. Some could care less. Some cowered. Althea Jarry witnessed this when a child in the coffee shop ran to the window, and the woman handing her her change glanced fearfully to the window.

“Um, nine, ten and eleven,” she counted back with shaky hands.

Althea smiled and thanked her, then took her breakfast turnover and coffee and walked to the front door, her intrigue matching the child’s who was pleading for his mother to look. Althea walked outside to feel the ground shaking. It was as if she were sitting in her SUV, waiting on a passing train, or standing outside during an earthquake. Up the street came a parade of motorcycles, and her fascination with bikers kicked in once more. She stood and watched as not only one, but four clubs sped by. The lead was a pack in black, wearing Reapers, but not the familiar California rockers. Instead, they were sporting Washington rockers. Behind them were a pack of ape hangers, followed by a sea of orange motorcycles, and then a pack of purple choppers she had never seen before. She knew SAMCRO must have called in a family reunion. The question was why.  
Thinking quickly, Althea walked to the cruiser and climbed, setting her sights on TM to talk with the President before the rest of the bikes arrived. If they were throwing a party, fine, but if another war was brewing, she would demand to know.

***

Tig was not sure what possessed him to do it.

The Vice President was known for shooting before thinking, as the club’s “Brains before Bullets” rule almost always went ignored. He reacted on impulse, and often followed his heart more than reason. This was the case with his beloved Pit Bull, who he saved from being executed after it was brutally injured and lost a dog fight. The club had been at the fight for one sole purpose, and that was to help Nero and find an asshole named Dante. On their search, they had found themselves at an illegal dog fight. Jax and Chibs had managed to keep a straight face, but he remained the look of horror on Bobby and Filthy Phil’s faces when they witnessed the two creatures gnashing teeth and drawing blood. Finding this Dante guy was the last thing on Tig’s mind. Seeing the two dogs fight, the awful and cruel humans around them cheering them on over bets…it broke his heart. He remembered the tears that immediately welled up in his eyes, the sight of blood, the barking and yelping, and the smell of the corpses in the back alley. To this day, it still made bile rise in his throat. When he saw the dog’s owner carrying the bleeding animal out to drop it in a blue kiddie pool and dispatch it, he made saving the dog his first priority, versus finding Dante. Luckily, he was able to save her, and stayed by the dog’s side as he watched Chibs patch her up like a trained vet. He had even held her paw, as if she were one of his kids.  
The dog quickly became family after that, and showed that she was a highly intelligent, fiercely protective, and exceedingly loving companion. She was always a source of happiness next to his beautiful Old Lady, and when they returned home from Scotland, picking the dog up from a trusted Crow Eater’s house, Tig and his beautiful Pit Bull could have never been more excited to see each other. He hugged her all night and the two fell asleep on the couch for a few hours. Home was not home to Tig without his Old Lady and his dog. One day after they returned to Charming, the three had gone for a walk at a dog-friendly park. After their walk, Venus was sitting in the car with the dog while Tig was throwing away a pile that his dog had left on the sidewalk. In the blink of an eye, a man tried to hijack Venus’ car, and had the dog not been in there with her, she could have gotten hurt or killed, and the man would have gotten away with his crime. Tig tossed the mess into a trashcan and reached for his gun, tearing off for the car and screaming while his faithful animal friend attacked the hijacker, protecting his Old Lady and saving the day. Tig would have taken care of the man himself, had they not been in public. He just kept him a gunpoint and called the cops. An unlikely thing for a club member to do, but he wanted the man to receive some form of punishment for trying to hurt Venus, and possibly the dog, too. Their favorite sheriff showed up, and took the man into custody. Tig was forever thankful he had such a protective and loyal animal, and within hours of the drama occurring, his mind had guided him to a quick decision.  
Chibs and Callie had been on his mind, and he had mixed feelings about leaving the two alone in a foreign land, especially so close to SAMBEL and the IRA. However, they were as safe as could be there. This Hanes fucker could not find them there. They were in more danger at home, and being surrounded in their brothers had proved to not offer enough protection. He would never forgive himself if something were to happen to Callie again, and he couldn’t bare to lose either. It worried him to the point of planning new forms of protection until either SAMCRO or the Freak Riders found the guy. However, after what happened with the attempted carjacking, a lightbulb lit up in his head. After discussing it with Venus, as well as the rest of the club, the plan was set in motion.  
Tig was at the clubhouse with Ratboy and Chucky, as well as his own Pit Bull. The white dog was staring up at Tig with a look that could only be described as jealousy. She had been giving him this look all week, and he had loved on her endlessly in hopes that she would forget that he was, in so many words, two-timing her. Temporarily, that is.

“Ah, baby, c’mon. Don’t give me that look. Today’s the last day,” he said.

The dog wagged her docked tail and watched her master with anticipation. He cupped her face.

“I love you,” he said.

The dog licked his face and he kissed the top of her head.

“Gross,” Ratboy said.

Tig stood straight up and pointed an accusing finger at him.

“Hey! Here in about a month, you’re going to be elbow deep in gross. Baby piss and puke,” he snapped.

Ratboy rolled his eyes and smiled as he tied up one of four large plastic bags that had been accumulating in Tig’s living room. All of which he had to fight to keep his dog out of.

“How much longer until Brooke is due?” Chucky asked curiously.

“One more month,” Ratboy replied, “And these last few weeks are going to be hell.”

Tig sat down beside him and reached up to touch the thing on the coffee table that had been driving his Pit Bull crazy.

“Critical time. She been doing okay?” he asked, concerned about the baby who would be his honorary grandson, as strange and as heartwarming as that was to him.

“Yeah. Just…evil. Like, not time of the month evil, you know? But just really moody. Trying to make things too perfect, you know?”

Tig smiled.

“Yeah. Soon she’ll be screaming at you and telling you to get a vasectomy and that she hates you for knocking you up and throughout that whole process, everything will be your fault,” he said teasingly, though knowing he was pretty close to the truth.

Brooke, much like Callie and Venus, was exceedingly protective over the boy, and there was no doubt she would be even more so with Felix, but she had also been known to kick Ratboy’s ass when needed. It was going to be a hard last few weeks for the young couple, but Tig knew they would think it would be worth it. Besides, he missed seeing children and babies around the clubhouse, as weird as it was. He missed Thomas and Abel. Abel, especially. He liked those little munchkins, and he hoped and prayed that this would encourage his daughter and now son-in-law, so to speak, to start their family. Hopefully, soon, but not too soon, which is another reason he had gone out, done his research, and found the perfect welcome home present for the newlyweds.

“I’m just scared. I have no idea how to handle babies,” Ratboy said.

“By their toes,” Tig said distantly, only joking.

Chucky and Ratboy looked horrified. Tig looked to them and laughed.

“I’m joking! Jesus Christ!”

Chucky breathed out a sigh of relief, but Ratboy looked wary of Tig. Tig snorted.

“What?”

Ratboy shook his head.

“Not letting you near my kid,” he grumbled out.

Tig laughed. Ratboy tied up the last bag and set it to the side.

“When are the newlyweds coming back?” Chucky asked.

Tig looked to the bookkeeper.

“They got back last night, but they said they would come in this morning,” he replied.

Chucky nodded.

“I’m assuming they don’t know about this,” he said.

Tig shook his head.

“Did you call Chibs and tell him about this meeting?” Ratboy asked.

Tig bit his bottom lip and shook his head again. Ratboy’s eyes widened.

“He’s going to be pissed you didn’t clear this with him!” he exclaimed.

“Hey! It’s for their safety. They know it’s time to stop putting this off,” Tig replied.

Ratboy sighed. He had thought Tig filled Chibs’ shoes pretty well, taking the position of leader while the King and Queen were on their honeymoon, but absolutely no one was allowed to make a call like Tig had made without warning the President first, much less a vote. The news of this meeting, plus the surprised he had in store for them, was already too overwhelming, in his opinion.

“Hey, Tig!” Happy called as he strolled through the front door.

“Yeah?” Tig asked.

Happy walked around the partition and put a hand on his hip.

“We got company,” he said, “And not any we invited, either.”

Tig stood up quickly and with Ratboy flanking him, left his Pit Bull and the surprise in the hands of Chucky. He stormed outside to find a white sheriff’s cruiser pull in, Lieutenant Sheriff Althea Jarry stepping out.

“Ah, shit,” Tig growled, then turned to the Sergeant at Arms, “I got this. Just kinda stand by.”

Happy nodded and he and Ratboy stood at a distance, keep a watchful eye over their brother. Tig produced a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit up on his way to Althea.

“You hang that bastard that tried to steal my Old Lady’s car?” he asked.

Althea’s lips twisted as she stood straight, shoulders squared, almost at a parade rest.

“It seems, Mr. Trager, that he may be. The man who tried to steal Miss Van Dam’s car was a convicted sex offender. Children, lately, have been his main target. We can safely assume that that is why he was at the park that day,” she explained.

Tig’s eyes widened and he blew a stream of smoke out of his mouth, the cloud of gray being carried away by the wind.

“Good,” he said, “That all you came out here for?”

She took a deep breath.

“Um, no, actually. I need to speak with your President,” she replied.

Tig raised an eyebrow, wondering what the hell the woman wanted with him now.

“Well, you can’t. He’s out of town,” he lied.

However, that had been what everyone in their social circle had been told to say when asked about Chibs, Callie, or the rest of the club. The last thing they needed was word getting out of their location.

“Oh?” Althea asked.

And even if his brother were there, he would not allow access to him. They had business to get done, celebrating to do, and the last thing the newlyweds needed to see was an old headache.

“I’m assuming club business,” she said.

Tig’s lips curled into a menacing smile. They had not been allowed to tell anyone why Chibs and Callie were gone, had they been asked, but since they were back, Tig felt like it wouldn’t hurt. Besides, he loved pissing the sheriff off.

“More like his honeymoon,” he replied.

Althea was struck with surprise. She had been told with brutal honesty that the Scotsman refused to do things that normal couples do, and a honeymoon seemed painfully normal. However, she had to remember that they were from two opposing teams, and his new wife, who she assumed was the same Callie Shepherd that cost her an arm and a leg in dental work, was on his team.

“He got married?” she asked.

Tig nodded.

“Yup. So, whatever business you need to discuss, you’ll have to take it up with me.”

Althea sighed.

“Well, I noticed a parade of several M/C’s, including one of yours, coming into Charming. I’d just appreciate a heads-up if Charming is in for another bloodbath,” she said.

Tig smiled and shook his head. He did not blame her, but that was the last thing SAMCRO wanted, as well—another war.

“Just a family reunion, Sheriff. Family coming in to celebrate Chibby’s marriage to Cal,” he said, driving that knife deeper.

Althea nodded. She did not trust Tig, but the gathering would make sense if she was telling the truth.

“Okay. Well, just know if there’s reported gunfire, I’ll know who to come to,” she said, as if trying to threaten him.

Tig took a long drag from his cigarette.

“We’ll be waiting,” he said darkly.

Althea shot him a deadly glare before returning to her car and backed out to leave. Tig returned to Ratboy and Happy.

“What was that about?” Ratboy asked.

Tig finished his cigarette and ground it into the asphalt.

“Jarry’s just whipping her dick out,” he replied.

Ratboy and Happy laughed at that. Tig clapped his hands.

“Come on. Let’s go back in and get everything ready for Chibby and Callie,” he said.

His brothers nodded, and followed their VP inside to prepare for the homecoming of SAMCRO’s new King and Queen.

***  
The night before…

The door swung open with a thud, and Chibs reached inside to turn the lights on, then stepped back onto the porch and grinned.

“No caveman shenanigans,” he said.

I smiled and held my arms up. Chibs grinned, then scooped me up bridal style and shouted out the Wedding March as he carried me over the threshold. I could only laugh.  
Chibs carried me down the hall and to the bedroom, where he laid me down in the bed we had not seen in weeks and prowled over me.

“Welcome home, Mrs.Telford,” he said.

I smiled widely and kissed him.

“It’s good to be home,” I agreed.

Although, I already missed Scotland, and wished I could just moved our house to the Highlands.  
Chibs smiled and captured my mouth, slowly massaging his lips against mine.

“Ya wanna unpack tonight? Get it over with?” he asked, kissing down my jaw to my neck.

I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders.

“Nah. I just want to spend time with my husband in our bed,” I said lowly.

Chibs smiled and scooped me up, laying beside me.

“Sounds like a plan, lovely,” he said.

I smiled and buried my face in the thin, dark gray hoodie he had worn today.

“Last night of relaxation,” he reminded me.

I just grunted.

“At least I get to spend it with my wife,” he continued.

I smiled as he kissed my cheek. His arms tightened around me and we settled into silence for a moment. I reached a tired hand up and lightly scratched the top of his million dollar bill tattoo through his v-neck.

“We should change,” I said, “Get out of these clothes.”

“Aye, too tired, though,” he said, his exhaustion evident in his voice.

“Mmm,” I hummed lazily.

Chibs fell silent again, and I thought that he had fallen asleep for a moment before his spoke again.

“Ya enjoy the trip?” he asked.

I opened my heavy eyelids and smiled up at him.

“Yes, baby,” I replied.

Chibs yawned and nuzzled his face into the top of my head.

“Me, too,” he murmured, “I love you, Callie girl.”

I caught his yawn and spoke through it.

“Love you, too, Filip.”

***

I never imagined getting back on my bike would feel so awesome, but after two weeks of riding bitch on a rental BMW, getting back on my Sportster was exhilarating. Being able to man my own bike, riding next to Chibs as we rode into Charming, felt right—normal.  
Seeing Charming for the first time in two weeks was nothing special. Not much had changed, if anything at all, and I missed the lush green landscape and overcast skies of Scotland. Being from Huntington Beach, I had been accustomed to dry heat and sun, as well as the few areas of real grass, but in Northern Cali, there were real trees and plants. Charming was still a dusty little Wild West town with its influences from Lodi, Stockton, and even Oakland, but I still yearning for sprawling fields and trees and grass. The only place in Charming like that was our house, but with a lack of rain and the summer heat, the world was dusty and the grass was dry. Hell, the cows across the road from us were munching on meager vegetation. Charming needed rain, and a nice cold front would be welcome.  
TM was just as dusty as the rest of the town, but as we pulled in that morning, it was a sight for sore eyes. Sitting on the planes, missing our own beds, and missing our brothers. Seeing the garage and clubhouse brought us home, and I realized that Chibs was right. Home was where the club was, and we just didn’t feel complete until we parked our bikes at the head of the line.  
Chibs sighed and looked around the lot.

“Aah! It’s good to be back,” he said happily.

I smiled and put my arm around his waist as he snaked his around mine. The clubhouse door opened, and Tig appeared.

“Holy shit! Everyone get your asses out here!” he barked over his shoulder.

Chibs chuckled.

“Missed that, too,” he said.

I smiled and watched as our brothers bounded out of the clubhouse, and instead of calmly greeting us, the tackled us at once. I was reminded of a pack of wolves as Rat appeared beside me, everybody’s hands trying to hug us at once. The more I thought about it, the more I realized we were a lot like wolves. As humans, we were civilized to a certain point, but in living outside of the social spectrum, we were feral. Yet, probably one of the most tight-knit and properly functioning families in town. We were a tribe. A pack. Whatever term for family. And Chibs was definitely the papa wolf. Alpha. I could see it now.

“Callie, come here, baby girl!” Tig said, holding his arms up.

I smiled and hugged him tightly.

“Missed you, Pop,” I said.

Tig sighed.

“I missed you, too. Hey, the guys and I got you and Chibby a homecoming present,” he said.

Chibs raised his eyebrow at him.

“Homecomin’ present?” he asked.

“Yeah. Let me go get it. Rat, come help with this,” he said.

Rat nodded and followed Tig back inside. Tig’s white Pit walked up to me and licked my hand. I smiled and crouched down to hug her and let her lick my face. She was also a sight for sore eyes. Tig brought her around every day, but I never got much of a chance to play with her, as we were always busy. Since moving in with Chibs, I hardly saw her at all, but I had been tempted to ask Chibs if we could get a dog. Then again, I expected him to say no.  
Growing up, the only dogs I had been around were dogs of friends and family. Zero had a Sheltie that I adored, and my grandparents had had a Schnauzer. My parents never allowed me to have pets, and I distinctly remembered them yanking me away from petting a labrador I had seen on the street. It lived across the street from my school. One afternoon, I had stopped to pet it just before climbing into my mom’s car, and she was so enraged, she had grounded me for the night. I was never allowed near a dog, or a cat, for that matter, but they never explained it to me. Every birthday, I’d ask for a dog, and I’d get something completely different. All I ever asked Santa for was a dog, but alas, that too was a worthless effort. I gave up, and devoted my time to school before their death. Everything went downhill from there until the club, and I never thought about it again. Didn’t keep me from watching sad dog movies and making myself miserable.

“Oh, holy hell. Callie, sweetheart, look,” Chibs said.

I looked up from the brown eyes of the pup in front of me to see Tig carrying something in his arms no bigger than a baby. However, it was too furry to be a baby. Not human, that is.

“No newlywed home is complete without a dog,” Tig said.

I felt my jaw drop when the being in his arms turned its head. The puppy looked at all of us with worried eyes. He was beautiful, with long hair, one ear perked up and the other still floppy, and black and tan features.

“He doesn’t have a name yet, but he’s 8 weeks old. Purebred German Shepherd. Venus found a highly recommended breeder. Guaranteed good health. The only real issue is grooming and shedding. Other than that, I felt like he would be the perfect dog for you guys. Excellent guard dog,” he explained.

I barely heard a word he said. My mind was reeling.

“Can I hold him?” I asked.

Tig smiled.

“Sure, baby girl,” he said.

He carefully handed me the puppy. The little creature whimpered for a moment, but as I hugged him to me, slowly petting him, I felt tears come to my eyes.

“Oh my God,” I breathed out.

“We even got you everything he might need. Bowls, grooming tools, shit tons of toys, collars, leashes, and some other stuff,” Tig said.

I looked at the puppy’s eyes and smiled. He was so cute and so sweet.

“I know it’s a big gift, but he’ll be a good guard dog. Venus and I had some trouble about a week ago, and if it wasn’t for this little girl,” he went on, petting his dog, who was curiously sniffing the puppy’s tail, “we would have been in deep shit.”

Chibs reached up and stroked the puppy’s head.

“You got us a puppy? Are you…this is a joke, right?” I asked.

Tig laughed.

“No!”

“You’re serious? Tig, don’t lie to me, because I’m fixing to fucking lose my shit,” I snapped.

Tig smiled.

“I’m not, baby girl,” he replied.

I sniffed and turned to Chibs.

“Can we keep him? Please?” I asked.

Chibs looked at me like I was speaking nonsense.

“Of course, sweetheart. He’s all yours,” he said softly.

I made this strange “iffing” sound and buried my face’s in the puppy’s fur. The guys laughed before hugging me.

“Jesus, Chibs. If this is how she is with a puppy, imagine how she’s going to be with kids,” Tig said.

Chibs laughed.

“You don’t understand,” I said, and lifted my head to wipe my eyes free of moisture and itchy dog hair, “I’ve always wanted a dog and my parents never let me have one. This is the most amazing thing ever.”

Tig smiled and hugged me.

“Thank-you,” I cried into his shoulder.

Tig kissed my forehead.

“You’re welcome, baby girl.”

I backed away and kissed the puppy, then glanced up at Chibs.

“You wanna hold him?” I asked.

Chibs nodded. I handed the puppy over, and his eyes lit up.

“Hey, big fella. You’re a handsome fella, aren’t ya?” he said.

The puppy licked his cheek, and Chibs looked like a happy little boy.

Outside the gate come the roar of motorcycles. We looked up to see one of our charters pulled in with the Grim Bastards and the Mayans, and to my surprise, the Freak Riders.

“What’s all this?” Chibs asked.

Tig winced.

“Part of it is a homecoming party. Most of it is for church. Called a meeting. Brought Tacoma down. Figured they could help us team up and catch Hanes while the Freak Riders are in town,” he explained.

Chibs just nodded.

“To the table then,” he said, not even questioning Tig’s decision.

I walked beside Chibs as we brought the puppy back into the cool air of the clubhouse.

“What are ya gonna name him, darlin’?” he asked, handing the puppy back to me.

I grinned.

“What do you think?” I asked playfully.

Chibs looked a little confused.

“Harley,” I said.

With that, Chibs burst out laughing.

“Oh, come on!” I said.

Chibs smiled and scratched the pup behind his ear.

“No, it’s perfect,” he said.

I smiled, and left the puppy in the travel crate and under Chucky’s supervision as I joined my brother’s around the table, surrounded by our allies. Álvarez was the first to approach Chibs and I and congratulate us, followed by Tacoma, the Bastards, and the Riders. Milo threatened to kick my ass for not telling me, but the entire club was thrilled and wished us the best. Afterwards, we settled down and began discussing what I had been dreading since packing up and leaving Scotland: L. Hanes.

“He’s not Huntington Beach, nor is he in Long Beach, L.A. or Vegas,” Milo said.

“I figured if he was anywhere, it’d be Vegas,” I said.

“We know, but unfortunately, we’ve been unable to locate him,” he replied.

“Yeah, checked in with SAMDINO,” Tig said to Chibs, “No luck there, but they’re keeping an eye out just in case.”

“Is this the bastard that got away the night you were abducted?” Álvarez asked me.

I nodded.

“Motherfucker shot me in the leg,” Happy growled bitterly.

“He’ll be after us. Revenge for his lost brothers, and to finish the job. Make sure I don’t kill him first,” I said.

“Ah, but ya will, love. We’re gonna hold him down for ya,” Chibs said.

“He’s going to want more than that. Probably cash, too. The VII’s empire was burnt to the ground as soon as Jojo was killed. There’s no money, now that Vegas have cut ties. He’s going to be desperate,” Milo said.

“Desperate and dangerous,” Jordie added.

Chibs leaned forward.

“Okay, then here’s the deal. We need eyes everywhere. Bastards in Lodi, Mayans in Stockton. Tacoma, Riders, ya think you guys can stay local? In case we need backup?” he asked.

The Tacoma crew and the Freak Riders nodded.

“We got ya covered,” Milo said.

“How do we find Hanes’ location, though?” Rane asked, “Has he been checking in with you guys?”

Milo shook his head.

“L doesn’t trust us. He’s been totally silent,” he assured.

“So who can he trust now? Everyone is dead or disconnected,” Chibs said.

The answer came to me so fast it made me jump. Tig shot me a look as I gasped.

“Anna!” I said.

Milo’s eyes widened.

“Holy shit! Yes!” he agreed.

Chibs was confused.

“Who the bloody hell is Anna?” he asked.

I grinned.

“L’s Old Lady. If anyone knows his plans, it’s her. She always knew club business. Probably knew about Z, too,” I growled.

Chibs nodded.

“What do ya think we should do about her?” he asked.

I crossed my arms over my chest.

“We force the truth out of her. Interrogate her. Threaten her,” I replied.

“And what happens if she doesn’t cooperate?” he asked.

I reached inside of my cut and pulled my gun from its holster, holding it for the guys to see.

“Then, I’ll blow the bitch’s brains out.”


	49. We Got This

After church, Chibs closed the door to the chapel and sat down. I moved to Tig’s seat next to him.  
  
“How are we gonna get to L’s Old Lady? It’s too dangerous for us to travel down there. Not when L could be plannin’ somethin’. He may have a trap set up right now,” he said.  
  
“Bringing her here is also too dangerous,” I said.  
  
Chibs nodded in agreement. I tapped my fingernails on the wood of the table in thought.  
  
“Aye. I have no idea what to do. I’d say forget it, but we’ve waited way too long. He’s gonna want revenge. We need to make some sort of ground before it’s too late,” he said, then reached over to take my hand, ceasing the tapping.  
  
I looked up from my thoughts to meet his eyes.  
  
“I can’t lose ya again,” he admitted quietly.  
  
I sighed and squeezed his hand. Unless I died of old age or sickness, the only way he going to lose me is if I took a bullet meant for him.  
  
“You won’t, baby. We just have to make a plan,” I replied.  
  
He nodded. I rubbed the back of his hand with my thumb, and he relaxed. I looked down in thought, trying to figure out how the hell we were going to talk to Anna, scare her enough to get an answer out of her, and do it without L knowing, much less her knowing it was us.  
  
“We can’t be the ones to make any kind of pickup. That’s for sure,” I said.  
  
Chibs nodded. Suddenly, I had it. It was a dirty and rotten idea, but it saved our asses.  
  
“Okay, I got it!”  
  
Chibs looked up in surprise.  
  
“Let’s get the Riders to pick her up. Nab her. Throw her in a van. Take her somewhere close. Stockton, maybe? Maybe Álvarez knows a place,” I began.  
  
Chibs nodded, listening intently.  
  
“All of us keep our identities covered. Faces. Everything…Hell, we could pretend to be Mexican!”  
  
Chibs shot me a look.  
  
“Callie—“  
  
I wasn’t listening as the gears of thought began to turn.  
  
“Yeah! We could pretend we’re Mayans. Can you do a Mexican accent?”  
  
His jaw dropped.  
  
“I can’t even do American!” he exclaimed, “What makes ya think I can do Mexican?”  
  
“You roll your R’s naturally!”  
  
Chibs burst out laughing.  
  
“Jesus Christ, Callie!”  
  
“Well, then don’t speak at all, because you have the most distinct voice. If I decide that she lives, and she gets to L before we do, he’ll know it was us.”  
  
“Callie, ya can’t just shoot her. She’s an innocent. We don’t shoot innocents. Ya know that,” he said.  
  
My eyes narrowed.  
  
“If that bitch knows where L is and tells us, I’ll let her go. If she refuses, she dies.”  
  
“And if she lies?” Chibs asked.  
  
“Then, I’ll kill her,” I said stubbornly.  
  
Chibs smirked.  
  
“Hellbent on blood, are we?” he asked.  
  
I smirked and leaned forward, gripping his forearm.  
  
“I have to finish this. It’s my responsibility to eliminate the poison The VII created. For Zero, for Juice and RJ, and for every Prospect they destroyed. Anna’s just guilty be association. Besides, she was always a vain, useless cunt,” I said bitterly.  
  
Chibs’ eyes widened and he laughed.  
  
“Well, she was!” I snapped.  
  
He smiled and took both of my hands.  
  
“I believe ya, darlin’. I think you’re on to somethin’. If we can keep our faces hidden, there’s little to go by. And if the Mayans are the only ones speakin’, she’ll just assume that her Old Man is in it with brown,” he said.  
  
“Exactly! You think Marcus would agree?” I asked.  
  
He shrugged, then stood up.  
  
“Let’s vote it,” he said.  
  
I smiled and moved back to my seat. Chibs called everyone back in and we began to plan our next move. Milo and the Freak Riders agreed that they would grab Anna, and the Mayans agreed they could bring Anna to their warehouse in Stockton. SAMCRO would be there to watch the interrogation, and I would be the one to decide her fate. Meanwhile, Tacoma would hold down the fort in Charming and the Grim Bastards in Lodi until our return. Everyone would cover their faces and wear nothing but black on black, if they did speak, it was Spanish. Only Gavin of the Freak Riders knew Spanish, and I could read it better than I could speak it. Álvarez would be the only one to speak to her, and no one was allowed to hurt her except me. If she refused to answer, she was going to be executed, and if she cooperated, the Mayans agreed to take her off into the dessert and leave her, alive, and with no way to make it home than by foot. Keep her lost and away from communication. However, if I didn’t like her answer, or found that she was helping L, I had a mind to blow her’s out anyway.  
  
“There’s no one else Hanes would be running to?” Álvarez asked.  
  
“No one we’re aware of,” Milo replied.  
  
“It’s risky seekin’ his Old Lady out, but we have no other choice,” Chibs explained, “It’s not just personal, Marcus.”  
  
Álvarez nodded.  
  
“I understand. His club hurt your club, your Old Lady, and they attempted to kill on our turf. I’d say he’s made his bed,” he replied.  
  
We nodded in agreement.  
  
“The more poison eliminate, they better,” Sticky, the Grim Bastards’ Prez, added.  
  
“Aye,” Chibs agreed, “Let’s vote this now. The Freak Riders pick up Anna, bring her to the Mayans in Stockton, and if she fucks up, she meets the end of Callie’s gun.”  
  
We all agreed with “yays” and “yeahs.”  
  
“Alright. Now with L. Pros and cons,” he said.  
  
There really were no cons, but we had to go through this step, anyway.  
  
“He shot me. Tried to kill me and Callie,” Happy said, “Pro.”  
  
“Killed RJ. Ran Juice down. Pro,” Tig said.  
  
“Not to mention, he poisoned Zero, which could be considered killing a brother, or an innocent,” I said, “Pro?”  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“I’d say so, love,” he agreed, “Any cons?”  
  
We exchanged glances before shaking our heads.  
  
“He’s a liability to all of our clubs. He’s gotta go, man,” Milo said.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“Then—what’s his first name, Cal?” he asked.  
  
“Lancaster,” I replied.  
  
“Then, Lancaster Hanes meets Mr. Mayhem?” he proposed.  
  
Everyone in the room voted with a unanimous “yay.” Chibs smiled and slammed the gavel down. Our sister clubs began to leave, the Mayans heading back to Stockton, and the Freak Riders to Huntington Beach to get Anna. The Bastards were going to hang out for a little while with Tacoma. Chibs held us in the chapel for one more vote.  
  
“Okay,” Chibs said, “I say if the Freak Riders bring Anna, we patch them over. Strengthen our SoCal charters. SAMDINO took a major hit with the bullshit with the XMC. We have plenty of strength in Northern Cali. I want these guys wearin’ Reapers.”  
  
Tig scoffed.  
  
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he snapped, “You’re going to tease me with one of the most wonderful parties known to God, where there will be so much pussy and I can’t have any of it? You son of a bitch!”  
  
The guys and I burst out laughing.  
  
“That’s cruel, guys,” Tig grumbled.  
  
Chibs reached over and clapped a hand on Tig’s shoulder.  
  
“We love ya, brother,” he said, then glanced over the table, “What do ya guys say? Patch over?”  
  
“If they succeed, absolutely,” Happy said.  
  
“Yup,” Rat agreed.  
  
“Hell yes!” I said, and the rest of the boys agreed.  
  
Chibs smiled and slammed the gavel once more before we filed out, Chibs and I bringing up the rear.  
  
“The end is near, darlin’,” he reminded me, slipping an arm around my waist.  
  
I smiled up at him, and he returned it.  
  
“C’mon. Let’s go play with your puppy.”  
  
I happily agreed, and returned to the lounge to begin bonding with Harley and mingling with the guys.  
  
***  
  
The warm breeze enticed Chibs and I outside after dinner, and we spent a long time playing with Harley. That little guy seemed to have endless energy, and had already destroyed a stuffed squeaky toy, spreading stuffing all over the backyard. He yipped at birds and ran until his short legs could carry him no more, and fell asleep on my chest as Chibs and I lay on the slope of the bank at the pond and rested, Chibs finishing a cigarette as I stroked Harley’s little head. He looked like a little lion with his long hair, and he was so soft and gentle, despite his rambunctiousness just an hour ago.  
  
“You’re gonna spoil him rotten,” he said.  
  
I smiled and watched as Harley’s shiny black nose wriggled.  
  
“Yeah, but he’ll be loyal,” I said.  
  
Chibs smiled and agreed. He stroked Harley’s back gently, as not to wake the tired pup.  
  
“He’ll be handy to have around. Keep the house safe,” he said, “You’ll have to train ‘em, ya know?”  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Yeah, I know,” I replied softly.  
  
Harley opened his little eyes and yawned.  
  
“I still can’t believe we own a dog. Or that you let me keep him,” I said.  
  
Chibs raised his eyebrow.  
  
“Ya know I’d let ya have whatever ya wanted. Why would ya think I wouldn’t let ya have a dog?” he asked.  
  
I rubbed Harley’s little ears and shrugged.  
  
“I don’t know. I thought it might be too much right now. Besides, I wasn’t even sure if you liked dogs,” I said.  
  
“I like dogs just fine,” he said, “Cats, not so much, but if ya had wanted a cat, I would have let ya get one.”  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Now who’s being spoiled rotten?” I asked.  
  
Chibs grinned and moved his hand from Harley’s back to the top of my head.  
  
“Taking me to luxury hotels in Scotland, letting me have a dog,” I listed.  
  
“Hey, you bought me a lighter, the club our clubhouse back, we both smother each other when we don’t feel well. I think it’s safe to say we spoil each other.”  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Besides, he’s my first dog, too,” he continued.  
  
I stared at him in surprise.  
  
“You’ve never had a dog?” I asked.  
  
“Callie, darlin’, we often didn’t have money to feed ourselves. Much less feed a dog,” he said.  
  
I sighed sadly. I had forgotten about that.  
  
“But I always wanted one. Thought about getting us a cow, though—after I saw how well ya got along with that calf,” he continued.  
  
I laughed at that, accidentally waking Harley. He opened his eyes and yawned with a small whine. I found myself yawning with him. Chibs chuckled.  
  
“Looks like it’s bed time for the both of ya,” he said.  
  
I smiled and stroked Harley’s fuzzy back as he slipped off of me and sniffed around, presumably looking for a good spot to go.  
  
“I’m not even tired,” I argued, yawning again.  
  
Chibs rolled over and wrapped an arm around me. I laughed as he pulled me closer.  
  
“Yes ya are,” he laughed.  
  
I huffed.  
  
“Maybe a little,” I gave in.  
  
Chibs chuckled and kissed my forehead.  
  
“Let’s take your puppy in and get some sleep. As soon as they find Anna, all hell is going to break loose. We’ll need our rest,” he said.  
  
I sighed and looked down, suddenly unsure about kidnapping L’s Old Lady. I never liked her, but she was also never involved with club business. She knew about all of it, of course, but if we got caught, everything was going to spin out of control so fast that we would be wishing we had never left Scotland.  
  
“Yeah,” I said quietly.  
  
Chibs ran his hand over my head.  
  
“C’mon, love,” he said.  
  
He sat up, and I followed, calling Harley over before picking the little dog up and carrying him inside, feeding and watering him, and putting him in his crate in our room before changing, brushing my teeth, and slipping into bed, Chibs already waiting.  
  
“What are we going to do if Anna really does know nothing?” I asked, pulling the covers up and scooting up against him.  
  
Chibs sighed.  
  
“Then, it’s back to square one,” he replied.  
  
I groaned, not liking that answer.  
  
“But Althea put an APB out on him. He’s wanted. It won’t be long before someone finds him if we don’t,” he assured me.  
  
I nodded in agreement.  
  
“He’s a sneaky motherfucker, though,” I said.  
  
He wound his arms around me.  
  
“Hey. Look at me,” he said.  
  
I obeyed, making contact with tired brown eyes.  
  
“I’m not gonna let that sneaky motherfucker hurt ya again. He’s not gonna touch any of us. I’m gonna make sure of that, okay? He’s not gonna hurt the club, and he sure as shit is not gonna lay a hand on ya again. I promise.”  
  
I smiled and nodded.  
  
“I’m more worried about you, though,” I admitted.  
  
Chibs smiled and cupped my jaw.  
  
“We got this,” he said.  
  
I smiled and he leaned down to kiss me.  
  
“I love you,” I said.  
  
“I love ya, too,” he replied softly.  
  
I closed my eyes and laid my head on his chest. He tightened his arms protectively around me.  
  
“Goodnight, Filip.”  
  
“‘Night, Callie girl.”  
  
***  
  
It was early in the morning when I felt the bed shaking. I woke with a jolt, looking around frantically. I turned the lamp on and found the room empty of intruders, and the furniture wasn’t shaking with an earthquake. I looked down at Chibs and found him curled into the fetal position, gritting his teeth and shaking. He was grunted and murmuring, then started panting and cried out as if he were in pain. Alarmed, I threw my covers off and shook him awake.  
  
“Chibs!”  
  
He didn’t respond.  
  
“Jesus Christ! Filip! Filip, wake up,” I said loudly.  
  
Chibs gasped and his eyes snapped open. His shaking ceased and his eyes wheeled around, trying to make sense of his surroundings.  
  
“Callie?” he asked.  
  
I pushed his hair out of his face. He had fallen into a cold sweat, and his hair was stuck to his cheeks. I tucked the locks behind his ears and stroked his cheeks and forehead.  
  
“It’s just me, Filip. I’m right here,” I said softly, trying to soothe him.  
  
His eyes met mine and he let out a relieved breath.  
  
“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” I asked.  
  
He shook his head.  
  
“Nightmare,” he replied.  
  
I frowned. He let out a shaky breath and sat bolt upright, yanking me into a tight hug. I gasped in surprise and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He fisted the back of my shirt and buried his face in the crook of my neck. Whatever the nightmare had been about had terrified him. In the time I had known him, I had never experienced him having a night terror. He had his dreams and nightmares (nightmares more often than dreams), and most of the time, he would fight his insomnia, but for the passed few months, his sleeping schedule had been relatively normal, excluding the jet lag we had experienced. This was new, and it worried me.  
Chibs whimpered, and I felt hot moisture collect on my skin. I closed my eyes and held him tighter, cradling the back of his head with one hand and rubbing soothing circles in his back with the other. He sobbed into my shoulder until he was able to control his breathing, and raised his head to wipe his eyes. He took in a deep breath, his shoulders rising and then falling heavily as he exhaled and cast his eyes down.  
  
“I’m sorry I woke ya, sweetheart,” he said, voice now hoarse.  
  
I cupped his cheek and kissed his forehead.  
  
“Don’t apologize. Are you okay?” I asked.  
  
He nodded, keeping his gaze lowered.  
  
“Must have been a bad one. You never dream like that,” I said.  
  
He silently nodded in agreement. I wasn’t going to push it, as his nightmares never brought him to tears like that. I always felt that talking about it would help, but something like this was most likely not something he wanted to be reminded of.  
  
“Aye,” he replied quietly.  
  
He raised his head, sad doe eyes locking with mine. I smiled sympathetically and stroked his cheek.  
  
“Come on, sweet boy. Let’s go have a drink. Forget all about it,” I said.  
  
He smiled appreciatively.  
  
“I love you,” he said.  
  
I smiled and took one of his hands.  
  
“I love you, too. Come on,” I said, coaxing him out of the bed.  
  
He gladly followed, and we walked into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of Jameson and drinking until we passed out in the recliner, curled around each other.  
The next morning, Chibs was quiet. Distant from the guys. Everyone was a little on edge, as soon we would be dealing with business that would undoubtedly cause a torrent of shit to come flying our way. Chibs, however, stayed away from everything. His mind was a million miles away, no doubt on his nightmare. I had never seen him act like this after a dream. He wasn’t one to cling to shit like that. He always had the future in focus. There was no point in holding onto the past—at least, not for him. Whatever his mind had conjured up had affected him profoundly, and I found that he did not stray too far from me as we moved through our morning routine. Since we had returned from Scotland, we had been inseparable, but we did not smother each other. We knew our boundaries. Chibs had me worried as he followed me around, making small talk as an excuse to stay close. His anxiety levels were through the roof, and he had a shot of whiskey before we left the house in an attempt to calm himself. During church, Tig and I did most of the talking. It was obvious Chibs was forcing himself to keep his head in the game, but every time someone asked him if he was okay, he gave them a short, unsatisfying answer and pushed them aside. Hell, he wouldn’t let anyone touch him except for me, and before things could get worse, I asked him to meet me on the roof of the clubhouse after church. He was a little concerned, but agreed and asked me to give him a minute while he called in to check on Diosa.  
I climbed up to the roof and sat down on the concrete ledge of the sloping roof, overlooking the garage and smoking while I waited. I finished my cigarette just in time for him to come up through the trap door, which he closed behind him and dusted his hands off on his cut. He seemed a little calmer—looser. His attention was more focused on me, and it gave him something to distract himself with.  
  
“What’s goin’ on, lovely?” he asked.  
  
I looked up at him and watched as we stepped around me and seated himself beside me. I looked down at my boots, scraping the concrete with my toe.  
  
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” I asked.  
  
I felt his eyes on me as I heard the leather of his cut creak with his head whipping around.  
  
“Of course,” he said, his tone questioning, “You’re my wife, Callie. My best friend. Ya know I tell ya everything. Look at me.”  
  
I obeyed and he took my chin gently between his fingers.  
  
“I trust ya more than anyone,” he said lowly, then lightly butted my forehead.  
  
I gave him a small smile.  
  
“What’s wrong, love? You’re worryin’ me,” he said.  
  
I snorted.  
  
“I’m more worried about you. Since last night, you haven’t been yourself. Everyone here can see something’s not right.”  
  
He sighed and looked away, shifting to prop a boot onto the ledge in front of us.  
  
“I know,” he said softly.  
  
He looped an arm through mine and laced our fingers. I laid my head on his shoulder.  
  
“You don’t have to give me details, but at least tell me what I can do to make it better. I hate seeing you like this,” I admitted.  
  
Chibs rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb.  
  
“Just bein’ with ya is all I need. I’m feelin’ better. That dream just…spooked me, I s’pose,” he replied.  
  
I raised my head to look at him.  
  
“What happened in it, Filip?” I asked.  
  
He exhaled deeply.  
  
“Nothin’ really. That’s just it,” he replied.  
  
Confused by his vague reply, I tilted my head to the side. He focused his eyes on his boot, deep in thought.  
  
“I’ve lived alone since I moved to California. Hell, I was often home alone when I was with SAMBEL. But, I got used to it, ya know? Learned how to cope with myself. Tackle my own shite without outside help. Guess it lead to my insomnia and alcoholism, but things weren’t half bad for a while. Shit spun up a couple of times, but it was nothin’ like when the doc was murdered. Jackie spun out of control. Everythin’ hit the fan. It was a scary, scary time. I’ve had a few close calls with death, but none of that scared me more than that fear of knowing that you, or one of your brothers could be next. I kept my head, but it fried me. Then, of course, there was the shit with Althea. She started a lot of drama, but weirdly enough, we got along. She and I could have never been what we are, but she was a decent human bein’ when she wasn’t stuck in cop mode or overthinkin’ things…I got used to that. Used to havin’ an outside entity I could escape to. Used to havin’ a distraction. Used to havin’ someone to go to when things got tough. She became my escape plan. Of course, her drama was too much and after Bobby died and Jackie told me he was leavin’ the club, I knew we had to separate. Whatever we had soured and I never regretted the split, but after it happened, and after I said goodbye to Jax, for some reason I kept thinkin’ that at least I could go see Althea…then I remembered, went to my own house, drank, and when I woke up on the couch the next mornin’, I was truly alone again, and it scared the shit out of me. I learned to become independent as I once was, but I have never liked bein’ alone. Last night, I had a dream that it was the night after we killed L, and I found myself in the same situation. Alone.”  
  
I let out a shallow breath. No fucking wonder he had been panicking in his sleep. I know I would be in the same boat.  
  
“Jesus Christ, Filip! Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.  
  
He shook his head.  
  
“I was too tired to explain it fully. Callie, I’m bloody fuckin’ terrified. I cannot lose ya. My life has been one wrong step after the next, and you have been the one consistently right step. I don’t want to wake up knowin’ ya won’t wake up next to me.”  
  
I sighed.  
  
“L is not going to kill me. You’re not going to lose me. Listen to me. We have to kill this bastard. He has no backup. We have the Freak Riders, the Mayans, Tacoma, and the Bastards right behind us. I’m sure we could call for more if we need to. Chibs, you’re just stressed about this whole thing. I can’t say I’m not scared shitless, but we have to finish this. For Juice and RJ, for Z, for everyone that died an undeserving death by the hand of The VII, and don’t forget what they did…killing what could have been,” I said, not wanting to say the “B” word.  
  
Chibs set his jaw and nodded.  
  
“Oh, they are definitely payin’ for that. All the pain they caused,” he said.  
  
I nodded and hugged his arm.  
  
“It’s one guy against us. He’s outnumbered, and he won’t get me. And I’m going to make damn sure he doesn’t hurt you or any of my boys. We have one last fight to carry out, and I’m going to be right beside you. Always will.”  
  
Chibs smiled at that.  
  
“You’re a brave Old Lady, Callie girl,” he said.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Just taking care of my club,” I replied.  
  
Chibs smiled and kissed me deeply, only to part for a moment and kiss me again.  
  
“I love you, Callie.”  
  
I smiled and cupped his jaw.  
  
“I love you, too, Filip.”  
  
I let his forehead drop to mine, and we remained like that for a few moments more as the wind swirled around us. When he phone vibrated in his pocket, we separated so he could answer.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
I watched him intently, reading his expression as they changed. When his shoulders fell with his jaw, I knew we had movement.  
  
“And they had no followers?…Good. We’ll be right there,” he finished, then slapped his phone shut, “Riders brought Anna to a Mayan warehouse on the outskirts of Stockton. We gotta go.”  
  
I nodded and shot up, Chibs on my heels as we ran through the clubhouse, alerting everyone and gearing up, shedding our cuts and covering everything that would could be identified by. Chibs and I ran to the apartment and threw on our gloves, black hoodies, and pocketed black ski masks before racing out to our bikes, the pack following Chibs out onto the street and in pursuit of Stockton.  
  
***  
  
When we arrived at the warehouse, we found a black van parked outside, and an armed member of the Mayans waiting for us. He nodded to Chibs and let us inside. None of us said a word as we found a group of Mayans and the Riders, everyone clad head to toe in black and completely diguised. I recognized Álvarez only by his voice as he gave a command to one of his men in Spanish. I walked up beside him. In the chair in front of him was a woman, tied up and gagged. She had long blonde hair, sharp facial features, and green eyes. She was wearing a white tank top and hot pink sweatpants, and I realized that Milo and the guys must have yanked her out of bed and threw her in their van. She was sweating, and obviously scared shitless. I smirked behind my ski mask. She had never been nice—at least, not to me. Always deep into clubbing and fashion and materialism. Party girl, as everyone in The VII’s crew had been at one point in time. She was nothing more than rich scum to me.  
  
“Retire la cinta,” Álvarez ordered.  
  
One of his guys nodded and ripped the silver duct tape from Anna’s mouth. She spit out the sock that had been stuffed in her mouth and gasped.  
  
“What the hell do you people want? Let me go!” she cried out.  
  
I reached out and slapped her. She gasped and left her head hanging to the side.  
  
“Where is your husband?” Álvarez asked calmly.  
  
She looked up at him and curled her lip.  
  
“My husband?” she asked.  
  
Álvarez shifted his weight and clasped his hands in front of him.  
  
“Would you like my guy to slap you again?” he asked, again, all too calmly.  
  
“What is this? Is Lancaster in some kind of Mexican shit? I swear to God, I told him—“  
  
“Just tell us where he is, and we’ll let you go,” Álvarez interrupted.  
  
She snarled and spit at him. Myself and the guy to his right cocked our guns and pointed them at him.  
  
“Tell us where your Old Man is, or they will blow your goddamn brains out,” Álvarez said.  
  
“And if you’re lying,” the man, who I could only assume was the Mayan VP, spoke, “we’ll kill ya anyway.”  
  
Tears welled up in Anna’s eyes.  
  
“I haven’t seen him in weeks. He’s in Nevada. Said something about striking the M/C that killed our club from the inside. That’s all I know. I swear!” she cried.  
  
“¿Dónde?” Chibs asked.  
  
“Yes. Where in Nevada?” Álvarez asked.  
  
Anna shook her head.  
  
“Place outside of Reno,” she replied.  
  
I felt Chibs tense beside me. Tig, who was standing beside him, leaned over to whisper to him.  
  
“That’s just north of Indian Hills,” Tig whispered.  
  
“Shit,” Chibs whispered.  
  
“Indian Hills?” Álvarez asked.  
  
Anna nodded.  
  
“Yeah! Said the Sons of Anarchy had a charter there he was told could help him. Their mother charter destroyed our brothers. He’s going for revenge. I told him not to. He’s just going to get himself killed. Please don’t kill him! I’ve told you everything I know. I’ve cooperated,” she said.  
  
I stepped in front of Álvarez and pressed my gun underneath her chin.  
  
“One last thing,” I said lowly.  
  
Her eyes changed from fear to suspicion. She knew my voice.  
  
“See, Old Ladies are not supposed to give their Old Men away. Yet, you just ratted, Anna. Now, it has come to my attention how easily someone in The VII can become a rat. Even if they’re not a rat at all,” I said.  
  
She narrowed her eyes.  
  
“Callie?” she asked.  
  
“No, I’m just another rat, according to Shane,” I said, copping an attitude.  
  
Anna growled.  
  
“You are a rat! You got the club killed!”  
  
“Oh, save it, you fucking gash! The VII have done nothing but kill innocents for years!”  
  
“According to L, they were rats. We kill rats, Callie, and I’m sure you know what’s going to happen to you. You’re the biggest of them all, and I’m sure you learned it from your precious Zero. That lying son of a—“  
  
Anna jaw was gone in a matter of seconds. I didn’t want to hear another word, and we had already acquired the information we need. I pulled my gun as soon as I realized she was talking about Zero, and the back of her head was sprayed all over the Freak Riders unfortunately in the line of fire. I snarled and kicked her limp body, sending Anna and the chair over where the blood could stain the concrete floor. I ripped off my ski mask, and the others followed suit. Chibs approached me from behind and put his hands on my shoulders.  
  
“He’s starting a war from within,” Álvarez said.  
  
“Aye,” Chibs said, then kissed the top of my head, “Atta girl, sweetheart.”  
  
I smiled, and Tig approached me, putting an arm around my shoulders. Milo pulled his ski mask off and stared at the body.  
  
“Jesus!”  
  
I smiled apologetically.  
  
“Sorry,” I said.  
  
“No, it’s no problem. I just forgot how quick of a draw you were. Shit!” he replied.  
  
“Besides,” Jeffrey said, “No one fucking liked that bitch.”  
  
I smiled at that. Chibs shook hands with our Mayan allies, and I followed suit. The Freak Riders said they would take care of the body, and I apologized for the mess. Álvarez passed it off.  
  
“No problem. Just let us know if you need help with Indian Hills,” he said.  
  
We nodded.  
  
“Aye,” Chibs agreed.  
  
The Freak Riders took Anna’s body, and we thanked both clubs before returning to our bikes outside.  
  
“This is bad, brother,” Happy said.  
  
“Yeah, and I’m sure Mickey was too big of a pussy to kick Gainnes out,” Tig said, “and he already had beef with you. Now Callie, too.”  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“We’ll intercept them. The problem is doing it without them knowing,” he said.  
  
We nodded.  
  
“So, what next, Prez?” I asked.  
  
Chibs put his hands in his front pockets.  
  
“We lay low and wait to strike.”


	50. Future

The question was “How?” How are we going to go this? The question was also “When?” When to strike, how to strike, and sometimes where, but location was irrelevant. We knew not to plan a spot. In our current situation, it was going to happen where it was going to happen. We just had to keep our eyes and ears open, and our guns loaded.  
According to Chibs, they had been through this before. Clay Morrow, former President of SAMCRO, had employed a couple of Nomads, bringing them into the club, and using them to take Jax down. Make him look bad all the while home invasions were running rampant throughout Charming. Only Clay knew that the home invasions were by the Nomads, as he had set that in motion. It was sneaky, and it sounded exactly like something a desperate L. Hanes would do. Perhaps buy his way into the Sons. He couldn’t function without his club, and he was going to lose his mind when he discovered that Anna was gone. That was a dirty move on our part, but there was no playing by the rules now. We had our information, and now we needed to figure out how to find L and accuse Indian Hills of betraying the Patch. With the Nomads, they had already made their beds when apparently, two of them tried to kill a club friend, and the other bailed. The club later discovered that the two that had killed the friend were told to do so by Clay, and the third confessed that the former Prez had been behind the attacks to Juice, but all of that news was discovered too late when Clay killed the last one before they could prove that the attacks were not SAMCRO, but traitor Nomads. Their trying to kill the friend, shooting Lyla, and kidnapping Chibs, almost killing him and leaving him unconscious on the side of a highway gave the club enough to call Mayhem. This time, we had to prove that Indian Hills had agreed to work with L, catch L in the act, and somehow lay low enough so they wouldn’t suspect we were onto them. The only way they would know is through a rat, and unless they suspected one of the Indian Hills crew, their only rat was Anna. We somehow had to find evidence, none of us had a better idea other than to either ride to Nevada and spy with cameras, or collaborate with Althea. Those were our only options unless someone came forward. We decided to leave everything alone for the time being and wait for more news, unless Althea got a 20 on L.  
In the midst of waiting, things had been relatively quiet. We had little issues on the business side of the club, and the proposal had been made to patch in the Freak Riders, turning them to the Sons of Anarchy of Long Beach, California. Milo, Jordie, Jeffrey and Gavin had been ecstatic to hear that we wanted them wearing Reapers, and ideas about branching out different businesses had been discussing, but they decided that they didn’t want to finalize anything until L was history, and things were settled with Indian Hills. We agreed, and neither M/C could wait until the party. In the meantime, we did give Althea an “anonymous” tip that Lancaster Hanes could be in Nevada, but she didn’t have the reach yet to make a move. Chibs was confident we would get to him before the law did, and wasn’t worried about whether the San Joaquin Police Department got their calls out or not. L was going to die, and if that meant I would be receiving a Mayhem patch, then so be it. His time was coming, but for now, I was enjoying being home with my brothers, my Old Man, and my dog.  
Harley had quickly outgrown his little puppy crate, and had taken up residence in our bed at night. Chibs was pissed. He didn’t mind Harley anywhere, so long as he wasn’t on the leather furniture or our bed when we were trying to sleep in it. However, he hated sharing me with the dog. I had been sleeping with Harley against my chest as if he were a stuffed animal, and despite knowing it was spoiling him, I hated telling him no. Not with his big brown eyes. Of course, someone else had eyes like that, and I became conflicted when I had both the dog and my Old Man begging. Tonight, however, Harley slept at the foot of the bed, and instead of cuddling my fuzzy fur-child, I spooned with my husband. His body was always in contact with mine at night. Heavy arms over my sides or across my stomach, his head on my chest, on top of my head, or ducked into my neck, or my body smashed into his chest, or my head on his shoulders, arms around his torso, and a leg locked around one or the both of his. Sometimes we woke up in the sickeningly cute way we had fallen asleep, and sometimes we fell upon each other in a lazy, post-sex heap with not a care as to where our limbs fell. Tonight was one of those nights, where Chibs’ chest was pressed into my back, an arm locked around my stomach, his forehead against the back of my head, and my fingers locked with his.  
We had only been asleep for an hour when my cell phone rang. Harley jumped awake and my heart skipped at the shrill ring. Being snapped out of sleep so suddenly, I had no idea what was going on until the second ring.  
  
“Shit,” I hissed.  
  
Chibs growled, pissed.  
  
“Tell ‘em to fuck off,” he mumbled into the back of my head.  
  
I reached for my cell phone and pulled it off the charger.  
  
“What if it’s one of the boys?” I asked, “I have to answer, baby.”  
  
“No ya don’t,” he argued stubbornly.  
  
He made no move to let go of me. I squinted to see “RAT” on the caller I.D.  
  
“It’s Ratty,” I said, then answered before he gave up, “Hello?”  
  
“Callie?” Brooke, to my surprise, replied.  
  
I swallowed thickly, not expecting her voice.  
  
“Yeah. Hey. Everything okay?” I asked.  
  
“I’m really sorry if I woke you. I couldn’t get a hold of Wendy and I didn’t know who else to call,” she replied, “And my phone was dead. That’s why I’m using Rat’s.”  
  
“No, it’s fine. What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly.  
  
Brooke sighed.  
  
“I think I might be in labor,” she replied quietly.  
  
My heart leapt into my throat. Oh fuck!  
  
“Shit! When’s your due date?” I asked.  
  
“Next week, but I’ve been cramping for the past two days. But today, they’ve been regular. At least, I think they are,” she said.  
  
“What’s goin’ on?” Chibs asked into my hair.  
  
I pulled the receiver away from my mouth.  
  
“Brooke thinks she’s in labor,” I whispered.  
  
Chibs lifted his face out of my hair, awake now. I pressed the phone back to my ear.  
  
“Like, they’re not super painful, but they are getting more intense,” she replied.  
  
“Have you told Rat?” I asked.  
  
“Yeah. I just woke him up. I thought it was Braxton Hicks contractions, but I wasn’t sure. These feel a little different. I know you’ve never been through this, but I thought you might know,” she said, her words coming fast and scared.  
  
“Um, I’m not sure either. Let me ask Chibs,” I replied.  
  
“‘Kay.”  
  
I turned my head to see Chibs blinking tiredly on my shoulder.  
  
“Do you know the difference between Braxton Hicks and the real thing?” I asked him.  
  
He rolled his eyes and held his hand out. I smiled and handed him the phone. He rolled onto his back and I turned over onto my stomach, watching as he pushed his hair out of his eyes.  
  
“Sweetheart?” he asked.  
  
I could just barely hear Brooke reply.  
  
“How are ya feelin’?” he asked, “…Aye. How far along are ya?…Okay, okay…Are they regular?”  
  
Chibs, needing something to do with his free, lightly punched my shoulder, making me laugh.  
  
“15 minutes?…How long do they last?…Have ya lost your plug?”  
  
I cringed. God! I didn’t even think he knew about that. Then again, he probably learned all about it either with Jax’s Old Lady, or somewhere along with learning how to pull a slug out of a man.  
  
“Ew,” I whispered.  
  
Chibs smiled as he listened to Brooke.  
  
“Okay. Did your water break yet?…Okay. It may not at all, but when the contractions get closer together or when your water breaks, get to the hospital, okay?…Okay. In the meantime, keep yourself hydrated. Snack on crackers or somethin’ to keep your strength up. Relax…Is Rat up with ya?…’Kay. Make sure that boy stays right with ya…Okay. Call us when ya leave and we’ll head up to St. Thomas…’Kay, darlin’…You’re welcome. I’m givin’ the phone back to Callie…Absolutely…Bye.”  
  
He handed my cell phone back and I put it back on my ear.  
  
“Brooke?” I asked.  
  
“Mmm…sorry. Contraction,” she said.  
  
I gritted my teeth. Chibs reached a hand up and tucked my hair behind my ear.  
  
“You okay?” I asked.  
  
She let out a large breath.  
  
“Yeah. Listen, thanks again. I’m sorry about waking you,” she apologized.  
  
“It’s fine, Brooke. We’re here for you. If you need us, call, okay?”  
  
“I will. Thanks, Callie,” she said.  
  
“Welcome.”  
  
With that, we said our goodbyes. I slapped my phone shut, tossed it to the side, and shot Chibs a look. He had a hand behind his head and a smug smile on his face.  
  
“What?” he asked.  
  
“You! You’re not just a field doctor, but a vet and a midwife, too, huh?” I asked.  
  
Chibs grinned.  
  
“All Tara. Well, her and I learned some of it. How do ya think Kerrianne was delivered?” he asked.  
  
I felt my jaw drop.  
  
“You delivered her?” I asked in surprise.  
  
He smiled and shook his head.  
  
“No, we had a midwife and Fi’s mother yellin’ at me in Irish. I helped, though,” he said, proud of himself, “I can deliver babies. Natural birth isn’t hard.”  
  
I laughed.  
  
“Not for you, maybe,” I teased.  
  
Chibs laughed.  
  
“Ah, true, love,” he replied.  
  
I smiled and turned onto my side, curling against him.  
  
“Should we get some sleep, or should we get ready to go?” I asked.  
  
He shrugged.  
  
“There’s no tellin’ how long it’ll take, but she’s a week early. If it’s happenin’ this early, she’ll probably progress within the next few hours. We can probably squeeze in an hour or two,” he replied.  
  
“You think something’s wrong?” I asked.  
  
He shook his head.  
  
“Probably just one of those things,” he replied.  
  
I nodded and settled against him.  
  
“Let’s get some sleep, yeah?” he asked.  
  
I nodded and looked up at him. He smiled and kissed me softly.  
  
“‘Night, love.”  
  
“Night, sweet boy.”  
  
I closed my eyes and let the sound of his heartbeat lull me back to sleep. However, I was still surprised by how much he knew about labor and what Brooke needed to do. Of course, he had probably done this with Fiona and of course, Tara, but I still found myself thinking how amazing it was—how fucking brilliant he was. It made me daydream, and soon found myself asleep, dreaming about Chibs as a doctor, walking the halls of St. Thomas in scrubs.  
  
***  
  
It was around four in the morning when Rat called Chibs to let us know it was time, although it was hard for Chibs to hear through Brooke’s screaming. She was in a lot of pain, and had been uncomfortable for the past few weeks. Rat was a small guy, and Brooke was tiny, but Rat had said his mother was big, and I had seen Brooke’s dad. He was a bigger guy, and poor Brooke had been dwarfed by her bump. We knew little Felix was going to be well over eight pounds. Thankfully neither she or Rat had a big head. In discussing it one afternoon with Venus, I silently prayed to myself that when or even if Chibs and I had kids, I hoped they didn’t have his bone structure, but I knew I was in for it either way. Chibs and I both had broad shoulders, and his momma had been a larger woman. His spawn would split me in half. Brooke was lucky she and Rat were both small.  
Chibs and I took the Challenger to St. Thomas, taking the safe route so we could travel undetected just in case we had a certain ex-VII member or Indian Hills lurking about. We made it without a tail, and found Venus’ car in the parking lot when we arrived. Chibs and I walked in, Chibs on the phone with Tig to find out where they were. We discovered they were in the maternity ward, and that Brooke was fine, but Rat had had a panic attack and Tig had taken him down the hall to calm him. Chibs was thoroughly amused by this.  
  
“I wanna see what the boy does when she crowns,” he popped off.  
  
I was conflicted on how to react. Laugh or gag. I did both. Chibs was laughing at me.  
  
“Ah, now c’mon! Ya can’t be grossed out by that! It’s just a bloody head comin’ outta-“  
  
“STOP! Stop it! No more! I know what happens. I’m well aware of how that works. I’ve taken biology,” I said.  
  
Chibs giggled.  
  
“If he’s panickin’ now, he’s gonna pass the fuck out!” he laughed.  
  
“Hey! It’s a big deal, having a kid. He’s scared enough as it is. Some guys can’t handle seeing someone give birth. It is gross,” I said.  
  
Chibs shrugged.  
  
“Not that bad,” he replied.  
  
I raised an eyebrow at him. He smiled.  
  
“What? I watched Fiona give birth to Kerrianne. I wasn’t missin’ that!” he said.  
  
I smiled and hugged his arm.  
  
“You’re either really warped or just something else,” I said.  
  
He smiled conceitedly.  
  
“Believe me, love, I am somethin’ else,” he said.  
  
I playfully shoved him as we approached Brooke’s room. Chibs knocked and Vee answered.  
  
“Hey, come on in. Brooke’s just resting. Alexander and Rat should be back soon,” he said.  
  
Chibs gestured for me to enter and he followed behind me. Brooke was sitting on a yoga ball in her hospital gown, taking a breather between contractions. She smiled when she saw us.  
  
“Hey, guys. You made it here fast!”  
  
I smiled.  
  
“We were just 15 minutes away,” I replied, “How are you feeling?”  
  
She blew out her cheeks and shook her head.  
  
“Ready for this to be over with,” she replied.  
  
She gestured to the room.  
  
“Look how big this room is,” she said.  
  
I looked around and nodded. It was indeed a large room, with different machines and a large selection of chairs for a hospital room.  
  
“The doctor said she can have as many people as she wanted in the room,” Venus said, “Alexander convinced them we were all family. Of course, you also can’t say no to a Son, either.”  
  
I sat down in the chair closest to Brooke, and Chibs beside me.  
  
“Just tell ‘em Tig is Rat and Cal’s dad. Can’t argue with tha’,” Chibs said.  
  
Venus sat on the edge of the bed.  
  
“How many, uh, centimeters are you?” I ased, not sure how to ask that question.  
  
“Or have they checked ya yet?” Chibs asked.  
  
Brooke rubbed her stomach.  
  
“Last time they checked, I was almost at six,” she replied.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“Getting closer,” Venus said.  
  
“Hey, Chibs?” Brooke asked.  
  
“Yeah, sweetheart?”  
  
She cleared her throat.  
  
“I know you were a medic and all, but how do you know so much about this kind of stuff?” she asked curiously.  
  
Chibs smiled.  
  
“Been through it twice before, darlin’. My ex-wife and Jackie’s Old Lady. Ya learn a lot in nine months,” he replied.  
  
“Besides that, Filip is extremely intelligent,” Venus added.  
  
Chibs rolled his eyes, embarrassed. I smiled at him and took his hand.  
  
“Doctor Telford,” I teased.  
  
Chibs shot me a look and his eyes darkened with lust.  
  
“Wait ‘till I get ya home,” he said.  
  
I burst out laughing.  
  
“Jesus!”  
  
Chibs grinned. I turned back to Brooke.  
  
“Think Felix might go into medical like his Uncle Chibs?” I asked.  
  
Brooke’s smiled quickly turned into an expression of pain as a contraction came on. She squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself against the mattress of the bed.  
  
“Mmm, shit! Maybe a soccer player,” she growled.  
  
I smiled sympathetically as she growled and whined her way through a painful contraction. Venus patted Brooke’s back.  
  
“God!” she moaned, “Where the fuck is Rat?”  
  
“I’ll go find them,” Venus said, then stood and walked to the door, “They should have returned by now.”  
  
Chibs and I watched as Venus left, then I walked over to Brooke’s side to comfort her. The contraction subsided, and Brooke was able to relax once again.  
  
“Jesus Christ, they’re getting worse,” she said.  
  
“Can they give you an epidural?” I asked.  
  
She sighed.  
  
“Maybe,” she replied.  
  
I patted her shoulder.  
  
“Were you able to reach Wendy?” I asked.  
  
Brooke nodded.  
  
“Yeah. She’s in Oregon with family and the boys. She won’t be able to get here until late morning, but she said she’s coming. Leaving Abel and Thomas at her parents’.”  
  
I nodded.  
  
“I just hope everything goes smoothly. The doctor said everything was okay, but I’m worried,” she continued.  
  
“You’ll be alright,” Chibs assured her.  
  
Brooke rubbed her stomach nervously and her eyes watered.  
  
“I want my husband,” she said.  
  
I sighed and stood up in time for the door to open and Venus enter with Tig and Rat. I approached Rat and took him by the arm.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
He nodded.  
  
“‘Kay. Stay with her. She needs you,” I said.  
  
He nodded again and went to her side. Tig approached me and hugged me.  
  
“Hey, baby girl,” he said softly.  
  
“Hey, Pop.”  
  
Tig kissed my forehead and patted my back.  
  
“You ready to be a Grandpa?” I asked.  
  
Tig rolled his eyes and playfully shoved me.  
  
“Shut up. Be nice to have babies around the clubhouse again, though. I was starting to miss that,” he said.  
  
We walked back over to Chibs and sandwiched him between us.  
  
“I thought ya hated havin’ screamin’ kids around?” Chibs asked Tig.  
  
Tig shook his head.  
  
“Nah. Felt more like family, having Jax’s kids around. Now we’ll have Felix,” he said.  
  
Brooke cried out and gritted her teeth. Rat had pulled a chair up in front of her. He touched his forehead to hers, let her squeeze one of his hands while he stroked her cheek with the other. I sighed. Rat seemed to have a grip on the situation now, and whatever Tig had possibly said seemed to work. Then again, maybe it was just his instincts kicking in. Whatever the case, the sight made me smile. In a few hours, they would be new parents, and even though they had spent these past few months mortified, they seemed as ready as they would ever be now. It was sweet, watching Rat comfort his Old Lady.  
I looked up at Chibs and he smiled warmly. He took my hand and kissed me softly. A knock on the door alerted us, and we looked up to see Mr. Putner poke his head in.  
  
“Knock, knock,” he said softly.  
  
Chibs patted my arm.  
  
“C’mon. Let’s let them have family time,” he said.  
  
I nodded in agreement and stood with him. Rat looked over his shoulder to see who had entered.  
  
“Hey, Gary,” he said, “Come on in.”  
  
Brooke looked up at her dad and smiled.  
  
“Hi, Daddy,” she said softly.  
  
Chibs tapped Tig’s arm and waved him and Vee over.  
  
“We’re gonna go have a smoke and venture around,” Chibs announced.  
  
Brooke gasped.  
  
“You’ll be back, though, right?” she asked worriedly.  
  
I smiled at her.  
  
“We’ll come back. You want us in here when it’s time?” I asked.  
  
“Please,” she replied.  
  
“We’ll be back, sugar. You relax, okay?” Venus said.  
  
Brooke smiled and nodded. Venus walked with Tig to the door, and I took Chibs’ arm and walked with him. It was close to dawn, and the cafeteria was not yet open. There wasn’t much to do, so we rode down to the first floor, stepped out into the parking lot, and the guys had a smoke. Tig received a call from Happy, and he updated him on how Rat and Brooke were doing. I sat on a bench with Chibs and laid my head on his shoulder. I was excited to be here, but I also wanted to catch up on my sleep.  
  
“It’s like when little Tommy was born all over again,” Chibs sighed.  
  
I smiled. Chibs laced his fingers with mine.  
  
“‘Cept my hand ain’t bruised,” he finished.  
  
I laughed and lifted his hand to my mouth, kissing his knuckles.  
  
“Their whole world is about to change,” I said, “Kinda scary, if you think about it. All of a sudden, there’s this screaming little nugget that completely depends on everyone.”  
  
“Well, they’ll only be stuck with it for 18 years,” he said.  
  
I laughed and lightly nudged his side. He laughed and took a drag from his cigarette. We fell into silence, listening to Tig finish his call and watching the sun begin to rise over Charming. Chibs finished his cigarette and ground it into the concrete below.  
  
“You think they’re ready?” I asked.  
  
Chibs cast a thoughtful glance over the parking lot and nodded.  
  
“They will be,” he said, then cleared his throat, “When Fi told me she was pregnant, I wasn’t ready, ya know? I had no interest in bein’ a father. My mind was elsewhere. Of course, I also didn’t know she was cheatin’ on me. She just told me to get ready. I had no fuckin’ clue what she meant by that. I didn’t want kids. And like the asshole I am, I didn’t pay any attention to her. Didn’t help much. No wonder she cheated on me, I s’pose. But, things became real when she was about seven or eight months gone. The extra bedroom was converted into a nursery. Her mother was over all the time. Bossin’ Fi around and kickin’ my ass. The house was full of baby shite. It finally connected with me, then, and it all changed. I became interested. Hell, I found myself fallin’ in love with my wife even more. It was one of our only happy times. Then Kerrianne was born, and of course, Fiona was instinctually ready. All mothers are. Well, most, that is. I was scared, ya know, but then I had the opportunity to watch her enter the world and cut the cord, and that fear just subsided. But, what I’m sayin’ is that I know what those kids are goin’ through. They’ll be fine. Brooke knows how to take care of a baby. She’s been baby-sittin’ for Wendy for a long time. She’s great with them. Despite whatever her setbacks are, she doesn’t let it stop her from doin’ what she needs to do. She’ll be fine. Rat may take a minute, but I think once he sees that little boy, it’ll click. Both will stumble a little, but they have her dad, Tiggy and Venus, us, Wendy when she’s available. They’ll be just fine.”  
  
I nodded in agreement. I knew he was right. The instincts, at least for me, kick in almost immediately. Brooke’s had been in full-swing since she found out, and I felt like Rat knew what would be asked of him and what he would need to do. He had been passionate about keeping it, and so enthusiastic about sharing the ultrasound pictures with the club. Now, he was up in the maternity ward with her, holding her hand and taking it with her. They had this. However, my heart sunk for Chibs. Parenthood had been ruined for him. His entire life he had made in Ireland had crashed and burned. He hadn’t deserved that. He loved kids. He still loved Kerrianne, no matter who she really belonged to, and he loved Jax’s boys. I’m sure he would love Felix, and there was no doubt in my mind that he still mourned the little one we had lost. I hoped one day we could fix that.  
  
“We should get back up there,” Tig said quietly.  
  
Chibs and I looked over our shoulders to him and nodded. Chibs stood, and holding his hand, I stood with him, and we walked inside St. Thomas and back to Brooke’s room.  
  
***  
  
For the next few hours, things quickly got scary in the delivery room. Brooke’s contractions became increasingly intense, and her dad could barely handle it. A nurse checked her from time to time, but for the most part, we took turns comforting her as she progressed to eight centimeters. She was restless, and could only scream and cry. Rat helped her undress and supervised her while she stood in the hot shower, letting the water run on her aching back and hips. She had requested to not have an epidural, and thankfully, had been cleared to deliver naturally. Still, the tension became greater and greater has time passed. Finally, however, at exactly noon, she was ready to push.  
Venus and Tig stood on the far side of the room, and Chibs and I against the curtain that split the room, giving Rat and Mr. Putner room to watch and comfort Brooke. She screamed and cried and screamed some more. She begged for it to be over, and at one point, began to panic. The nurse she had had such a zen quality to her, that I wanted to request her to be my nurse if or when I was stuck in the hospital for any reason.  
  
“Alright, Dad,” the doctor said to Rat, “Help Mom out a little. Help her lift her leg.”  
  
Rat nodded and put a hand around Brooke’s thigh, pulling her back into frog position. I cringed.  
  
“I’d suggest gettin’ on all fours,” Chibs said to me, “Let gravity help. Jesus!”  
  
I smiled and held his arm, a little scared of what was going to happen.  
  
“Give us one big push, Mom. Come on. That’s it. There’s the head,” the doctor said.  
  
Venus, of course, dared to look. Whatever she saw, she gushed over.  
  
“Alexander, come here!”  
  
Tig recoiled.  
  
“Do you want me to puke?” he snapped.  
  
“Guys!” Rat barked.  
  
“Next contraction, I want you to push, okay?” the doctor asked Brooke.  
  
She nodded. When the next contraction came, they encouraged her through it, and she let out a blood-curdling scream as the baby’s head crowned.  
  
“Alright, slowly. Easy does it,” the doctor said.  
  
Rat peered over his Old Lady’s hip and the biggest, happiest smile crossed his face. Brooke pushed, and with a cry, Felix was born. A purple thing was in the arms of the doctor, and Brooke fell back with a sigh of relief. Felix was rubbed clean of blood and whatever else, then his nose was cleared and he wailed as he was given to Brooke. When she took that little boy in her arms, and both she and Rat looked at him for the first time, my eyes betrayed me.  
  
“There’s your baby, sweetheart,” the nurse said.  
  
Brooke looked down at Felix and her face lit up.  
  
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed.  
  
I sniffed and took Chibs by the arm.  
  
“Filip, come here,” I whispered.  
  
Chibs tore his eyes away and followed me around to the other side of the curtain.  
  
“That was fuckin’ beautiful,” he said, still distracted.  
  
When his eyes fell on me and saw that I was fighting to keep my eyes dry, he grinned.  
  
“Jesus, love. Are you cryin’?” he asked, thoroughly amused.  
  
I closed my eyes and shook my head. Chibs laughed.  
  
“Aww, Callie girl. C’mere, my love,” he said, holding his arms out.  
  
I hugged him and buried my face in his collarbone.  
  
“That was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen,” I said into his shirt.  
  
He rubbed my back and chuckled.  
  
“Ya see what I meant?” he asked.  
  
I pulled back to look up at him.  
  
“Babies are born all the time. It was just the fact that it was a SAMCRO baby,” I replied.  
  
Chibs smiled warmly.  
  
“The family just got a little bigger,” he said.  
  
I smiled at that.  
  
“Despite everything. The bullshit and the blood and the death, fucking life just happened!” I said, my mind reeling over the thought of it.  
  
We killed and fought and destroyed like modern day pirates, and yet something innocent happened. Something was created instead of destroyed. Life was made instead of a death being dealt.  
  
“It’s amazing that among the battles, something like this can happen without one hitch,” I said.  
  
“Aye,” he agreed softly, rubbing my arms, “We’re gettin’ our normal back, baby.”  
  
I smiled at that. Chibs returned the smile and kissed me before we left to give Rat, Brooke, and now Felix time to bond before he was carted off to the nursery.  
  
***  
  
That afternoon, I went to the nursery to look at the newborns before it was time to go home. It had been a long one, and everyone was beat. Brooke was sleeping, and Rat was getting ready to catch some shut eye on the couch near her bed. Meanwhile, the club had sent balloons, cards, and flowers, filling Brooke’s room with color and positive vibes. Tig and Venus had just gone home, and Chibs was discussing things with Rat while I viewed a see of pink and blue behind glass. The only way I even knew which one Felix was was from the little blue beanie was a tiny Reaper, gifted to the new parents by Chibs himself. We had also given them two baby-sized SAMCRO t-shirts and three different Reaper onesies for boys or unisex. The club had them in stock, I suppose from when Jax was creating his family, and maybe for others. It made me smile to see the one Reaper among the others.  
Chibs approached me as I watched Felix wake up and cry. A nurse came around to burp him and change him, then moved to another baby. Chibs slipped an arm around my waist and watched.  
  
“Is it bad of me if I think Felix is a little ugly?” I asked.  
  
Chibs snorted and tried not to laugh.  
  
“Babies aren’t really cute when they’re freshly squeezed out, love. Their heads need time to adjust,” he replied.  
  
I laughed at that.  
  
“I know, but some of them are. Felix just looks like a pissed cat,” I said.  
  
Chibs burst out laughing. Poor little Felix. He had a ways to go before he entered his cute phase. He was gangly like his parents, taking after Rat, and his little ears stuck out in a way reminiscent of Yoda. His face was definitely his mother’s, but the kid was just a little more unique than the other babies.  
  
“They all kind of look like pissed cats, I guess,” I said.  
  
Chibs chuckled and moved behind me, wrapping his arms around my stomach.  
  
“Abel kinda had the pissed cat things goin’ on when he was released. Course, he was born prematurely, too,” he said.  
  
I frowned, remembering him telling me that story.  
  
“He grew into himself. Felix will, too, I’m sure,” he continued.  
  
I nodded. Chibs kissed the top of my head and sighed contentedly. I felt his arms tighten around me as he rested his cheek against the side of my head.  
  
“I want one,” he said softly.  
  
I went from relaxed to rigid in split second, and my eyes, which had been drooping with exhausted, snapped wide open. I spun around in his arms and stared up at him in shock.  
  
“What?” I asked, trying to keep my volume low.  
  
He smiled shyly.  
  
“I, um,” he looked down nervously, “I want to try it again.”  
  
I let out a shallow, shaky breath.  
  
“You…you want to have a baby?” I asked.  
  
Chibs smiled that smile that made his dimples appear and my heart heat up and melt.  
  
“I do,” he said.  
  
My jaw dropped.  
  
“Are-are you sure? You sure it’s not just baby fever? I mean, come on. We’re a little bit surrounded in it,” I said.  
  
He smiled and shook his head. I watched his hands as he took mine and held them tightly.  
  
“I wanna start a family, Callie girl. Of course, I’ll wait until you’re ready. There’s absolutely no rush. I just wanted to let ya know. I think it’s our turn now.”  
  
I couldn’t help but smile at him.  
  
“I know we can do it,” he said.  
  
I squeezed his hands.  
  
“I don’t doubt we can. Chibs, if you’re serious, we need to talk about this first. If it’s not just baby fever and we make a decision, I’ll have to go to the doctor and get back off the pill, and that takes some time to get out of my system. You really want to do this?”  
  
He smiled.  
  
“It’s all I’ve thought about since the accident,” he replied.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Yeah, me, too,” I said.  
  
Chibs lightly butted my forehead.  
  
“I think we can make better lookin’ ones, anyway. I mean, can ya argue with this face?” he asked jokingly.  
  
I laughed and cupped his face.  
  
“I think so, too, sweet boy,” I replied.  
  
Chibs grinned and cupped my hips. I sighed and stroked his cheeks. The daydream had passed through my mind a million times. Chibs and I becoming parents. How Chibs would be around his own kids. I knew how much he loved kids, how much patience he had, and how good he would be as a father, but I had doubts in myself. However, I couldn’t argue with the strong, brutal feelings of loss after the attack. Now that Chibs was ready, I felt ready, too.  
  
“Let’s go home, get some rest, and seriously discuss this. You’re ready to have a baby?” I asked.  
  
He smiled and nodded. I returned the smile.  
  
“I think I am, too,” I replied.  
  
Chibs’ happiness—hell! I had never seen him so utterly happy since he proposed and I said yes. Since our wedding. Since anything! He beamed and pulled me into a gentle hug and then slowly, passionately kissed me.  
  
“Goddammit, I love ya, sweetheart,” he said into the crook of my neck.  
  
I cupped one of his cheeks and kissed the other before resting my forehead on his temple.  
  
“I love you, too, baby.”


	51. This Means War

“Why should we take you?”  
  
“You got money or something?”  
  
“I’ve got all the money your club would ever need.”  
  
That was all Lancaster Hanes needed to say.  
  
“What kind of money?” Gaines asked, skeptical of the stranger, “You in an M/C?”  
  
L snorted.  
  
“Was,” he replied, “My club was compromised by a rat. My brothers are dead, my business partners have found new distributors, and I need help getting back at the club who destroyed mine. My sources say you’re the charter to talk to.”  
  
Gaines curled his lip.  
  
“You want to employ us to take out a club for you? What do we get out of it?” he spat.  
  
L planted his hands on the edge of the wooden table of the bar the Sons of Anarchy Indian Hills charter used as their headquarters.  
  
“You get whatever you want. Name your price. Help me, and you’ll have enough money to wipe your asses with. Beer, pussy, cars. Hell, I can have a Lambo per person for free by tomorrow. Down payment,” he said.  
  
“We don’t give a shit about super cars,” their Sergeant at Arms growled.  
  
“Bikes, then!” L said, “Anything you want. Anything you need.”  
  
Gaines sighed and leaned forward.  
  
“How do you know we’ll help you?” he asked, “Who were your sources?”  
  
“Doesn’t matter. I just know you’ll benefit from this as much as I will. According to my sources, you guys have a bone to pick with this club.”  
  
“Who?” Mickey asked, arms crossed over his puffed out chest.  
  
L smiled.  
  
“SAMCRO,” he said lowly.  
  
The Indian Hills crew changed their tune, and Gaines was suddenly very interested.  
  
“I know how their former Prez caused your crew a lot of grief,” L said.  
  
“Yeah. Their current Prez ain’t much better,” another Indian Hills member said.  
  
L smirked and locked his eyes on Gaines.  
  
“I also know that their Prez’s Old Lady humiliated you up in Eureka,” he said.  
  
Gaines wrinkled his nose, remembering how the small woman had knocked him on his ass, defending the Scot.  
  
“His Old Lady? Original VII royalty. She was our VP’s Old Lady. She knew too much, came up here looking for protection.”  
  
“Locked down with one of the strongest M/C’s in Northern Cali,” Gaines said distantly.  
  
“She betrayed my club, killed one of my brothers. SAMCRO is responsible for the deaths of my Sergeant at Arms and my Prez and little Miss Callie is responsible for another, as well as a few Prospects. Their Sergeant at Arms tried to kill me. SAMCRO has to pay. I want that Scottish bastard and his Old Lady. You can decide to do whatever with the rest. I just need help with those two.”  
  
“We can’t just take out two members of Mother,” Mickey said, “Mayhem falls on us if we do so.”  
  
“I promise. No one will know Indian Hills had anything to do with this. Members are not supposed to kill other members. No one will suspect this attack will come from the inside. You help me nab these little motherfuckers, and I will make you guys filthy rich,” he said.  
  
The crew exchanged uncertain glances. L rolled his eyes and slammed a wad of cash on the table with a loud slam. Every Son at the table stared in shock. No member had seen that much cash before. Even money from business and Jax Teller had not provided the massive amount on the table.  
  
“Down payment. I can triple this per person. Your call,” L said.  
  
Gaines eyes widened.  
  
“No need. Double per person, and we’ve got a deal,” he said.  
  
L slid the cash down the table and walked to the President to shake his hand.  
  
“I’ll be in touch,” he said slickly, then turned and exited the bar.  
  
The crew stared at their President.  
  
“We could have had triple!” their Sergeant at Arms exclaimed.  
  
“Right now, it’s all about trust. We’ll double our double later,” Gaines replied, “Shall we vote?”  
  
“Fuck that!” Mickey exclaimed.  
  
Gaines shot his Vice President a glare.  
  
“The fuck are you bitching for, Mickey? I’m getting pretty sick of this shit!” he spat.  
  
“Well I’m sick of you always giving SAMCRO shit! What happened with Teller, man, that shit’s done. Hell! I think Chibs has them completely in legitimate business. They’re cut from the Irish council. In bed with the Mayans and I’m sure the Niners. The Bastards. Not one war has broken out in Charming.”  
  
“Except that goddamn bitch tried to slit my throat!” Gaines roared.  
  
“Can you blame her? You threatened her Old Man! She did as she was supposed to do! Giving them shit for having a black guy? That was low.”  
  
“I don’t give a goddamn! Since Teller killed Jury, and Chibs jumped my ass, I’ve wiped my hands of SAMCRO. We’re done.”  
  
“So you want to let this guy kill Chibs? That pushes Trager to the throne,” Mickey said.  
  
“You want that fag running the show?” the Sergeant at Arms asked Gaines.  
  
The President snorted.  
  
“Hell no! But Chibs, in my eyes, is no better than fucking Teller. That bastard had Teller’s back since the boy got the Patch. Him, Teller and Opie. Chibs knows only how to do it the Teller, way and he’ll pull the same shit that got Teller’s Patch taken away in the first place. I don’t give two shits about his Old Lady. Let Hanes have her. I say we eliminate SAMCRO completely. As far as I’m concerned, they’re poison to the Reaper.”  
  
The crew agreed, but Mickey remained silent.  
  
“You want to ruin this entire M/C?” he growled.  
  
Gaines smirked.  
  
“Just Mother. We’ll take the crown. That can come later. First, we get our payback, and our money. All in favor of Mayhem landing on the King and Queen of SAMCRO?”  
  
Their Secretary spoke up.  
  
“I wasn’t until I saw the cash. Hell yeah! Fuck the Scot. Never understood a fucking word the bastard said anyway.”  
  
The guys laughed. The rest of the crew voted towards the notion, but Mickey put his foot down.  
  
“This is bullshit! Nay! We’re not swiping SAMCRO. We do, and this entire club, every American, Canadian, and European charter goes right down the shitter. Killing Chibs? He’s the only goddamn asshole who has his head on straight. Do what you want with his Old Lady, but I will not let you destroy the Sons of Anarchy. You said Chibs single-handedly ruined Mother? Brother, you’re the one with the loaded gun.”  
  
Gaines smirked.  
  
“That’s right,” he said.  
  
The table jumped, and no one saw their President yank his gun from his cut, but they reacted when Mickey’s body blew backwards, blood and flesh exploding from his chest. Gaines looked to the rest of his club.  
  
“We all still in?” he asked.  
  
They looked from their slain Vice President to the down payment L had left and nodded. Gaines dipped his finger into the gunshot wound, coated it with blood, and drew “VII” on Mickey’s forehead.  
  
“We’ll dump him on SAMCRO’s doorstep. They’re at war with Hanes, so they’ll immediately think danger is in the shadows and come running to us. We’ll trap them. Get our targets. Boys, we’ll be set for life,” he said.  
  
The crew nodded, and decided on a dump location. A risky location, however, their identities would hopefully never be caught by SAMCRO.  
  
***  
  
Bonnie, Tig’s rescued Pit Bull, was the epitome of gentle giant when it came to Harley. She was a big dog with a mouth full of teeth, and she knew how to use them. When she played with Harley, ironically in the boxing ring just outside the clubhouse, she basically gummed him. Harley had a mouth full of razor sharp puppy teeth and claws and an attitude to match, and I think he hurt Bonnie more on purpose than she did on accident. Every once in a while, you would hear one of them yip or whine, and either me or Chibs would have to warn them, but they immediately settled down and play gentle again, mouthing each other’s muzzles or necks, doing what best friends do.  
Chibs and I were sitting out on the picnic table as the sun began to set on TM, and club friends, Crow Eaters, and members were bringing in party items. Felix came home today, and Brooke and Rat were bringing him to the clubhouse for a party and everyone to get their chance to see him and hold him. When Brooke’s car pulled in just as Tig was closing up the garage, and she and Rat climbed out with Felix, the members, mechanics, and Chucky swarmed them, getting their fill before everyone else arrived. Chibs, who was seated on the bench between my legs, me being seated on the table top above him, watched over them while I slid my arms around his neck and buried my face in the top of his head.  
  
“Look, Callie girl. Even these grease monkeys love babies,” he said.  
  
I lifted my face out of his hair and looked to see a crowd of cuts and TM work shirts. I tensed at the thought of it. Being immediately surrounded in people who all want to hold and get in the baby’s face. It didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t even like people drooling over Harley when I take him to the vet. Sure he’s cute, but he’s mine and if you touch him, I’ll bite your head off.  
  
“Been a while since they’ve seen somethin’ that small,” Chibs said distantly.  
  
I sighed.  
  
“I don’t see how Brooke can stand it. People constantly asking to hold him and get their germs on him,” I said.  
  
Chibs laughed.  
  
“You sound like Jackie Boy’s Old Lady. She was so protective over Thomas. Protective of Abel, too, but Thomas was entirely hers, and she…woo! Even before he was born, she’d bite your hand off if ya even thought about touchin’ her stomach.”  
  
“Hell, Chibs! Brooke let people touch her all the time! That would drive me fucking crazy!”  
  
Chibs reached for the hands dangling over his shoulders and held them.  
  
“She’s young, darlin’. Lot less uptight. That comes with age. Look at Rat. He doesn’t like it at all,” he pointed out.  
  
I looked across the parking lot to see my brother with his arms crossed, fingers fidgeting rapidly and a look of discomfort on his face. I smiled.  
  
“Yeah, he looks pissed,” I agreed.  
  
Chibs squeezed my hands and let his head fall back against my chest, big brown eyes staring up at me.  
  
“Have ya changed your mind?” he asked.  
  
I smiled at the question. Since that day in the nursery at St. Thomas, we had discussed the subject of having a kid, but just the bare minimum. I had wanted to see if it was just baby fever and Harley would be enough, but since we returned home that day, I kept thinking about the day I held Thomas for the first time, and how when he touched my cheek, a switch inside me was flipped. Venus had teased me about my clock ticking, and even though I had passed it off at the time, since the accident, it had always been on my mind. Of course, now we were married, but I still felt a little apprehensive. We needed more time to think about it, but I had not changed my mind.  
  
“No, baby. You?” I asked.  
  
He smiled softly and shook his head. I smiled and held the side of his face, kissing him upside-down.  
  
“I just don’t know if we should wait until this shit with L is over or not,” I said.  
  
He watched me lovingly, rubbing the backs of my hands.  
  
“Ya know, a very smart woman once told me that we are not promised tomorrow. Especially not in this life,” he said.  
  
I smiled at that. He reached up and absently twiddle the crow and rose charm dangling around my neck between his fingers.  
  
“I think you just want an excuse to jump in the bed,” I said.  
  
Chibs laughed. I kissed his forehead before he lifted his head again.  
  
“Do we even have room?” I asked.  
  
“That guest bedroom was pretty large before I junked it up. We can clear it out. Sell some of the shit I hoard. Pay to paint the room. Decorate it however ya like,” he said.  
  
I smiled, thinking about all of the different possibilities on painting and decorating his old office/guest bedroom, and getting excited by the reason we were changing it.  
  
“Yeah. That Suzuki will bring in enough to pay for new furniture. I mean, it’s not like we’re broke, but it’ll bring in a little extra,” I said.  
  
He sighed and propped his arms on my legs.  
  
“Ya sure ya wanna sell that? It’s your baby,” he said.  
  
I leaned over him and locked my eyes with his.  
  
“We may be having a baby, Filip. I’m sure I won’t have time to enjoy it. Besides, we have three Harleys and a Challenger,” I said.  
  
“Technically four, countin’ the dog,” he said.  
  
I laughed and shoved him off of me, only to have him fall back against me. I wrapped my arms around him and nuzzled my face into his hair. Brooke, Rat, and Tig approached the clubhouse.  
  
“Some parts of my past need to be let go. Besides, I started on Harleys,” I said.  
  
“Once a Harley girl, always a Harley girl,” he said.  
  
I laughed and kissed the top of his head.  
  
Our conversation was interrupted by the sound of a wailing four-day old. We looked up to see Brooke try to soothe him while someone else called for her. She huffed and looked to us.  
  
“Shit. Callie, would you mind holding him? Just for a minute?” she asked.  
  
I nodded and swung a leg over Chibs’ head to climb down and walk up to her. She carefully handed Felix over, fretting over where my arms were.  
  
“Make sure to support his neck,” she said, moving my arm to make sure the baby’s neck was indeed supported, “There. I’ll be right back. I promise.”  
  
Felix’s cries echoed off of the sheet metal ceiling. Brooke turned away and slipped inside the clubhouse before I could how you turn him off.  
  
“Shit!” I hissed.  
  
Chibs hopped up from the picnic table, grinning like an idiot. I glared at him.  
  
“Well, well. Look at ya!” he said.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
“Don’t look at me like that,” I said.  
  
Chibs laughed.  
  
“Like what?” he asked playfully.  
  
I rolled my eyes and looked down at my honorary nephew.  
  
“Shh! What is it?” I asked.  
  
Felix just screeched. I sighed.  
  
“How do you make it stop?” I asked Chibs.  
  
He loomed over the baby and stroked his little head.  
  
“Just rock him, love. He’ll calm down. Gently,” he instructed.  
  
I did as I was told, and Felix’s cries died to whimpers, and soon enough, he fell asleep with the combination of my rocking him and Chibs softly stroking his head, which was becoming less cone-shaped now.  
  
“Bring him over here,” Chibs whispered, and gestured to the picnic table.  
  
I walked over to the table and carefully sat on the bench with the little creature. Chibs sat beside me and, not being able to help himself, picked up Felix’s little hand with a finger, letting the baby wrapped teeny-tiny fingers around his. I smiled, kind of liking holding him. It had been strange holding Thomas, but I had witnessed this one being born, and I was more bonded with Rat and Brooke than I had been with Wendy. Felix was very sweet when he wasn’t crying, and he was starting to show a little bit of cute.  
  
“I shouldn’t have offered,” I said to Chibs.  
  
Chibs was concerned.  
  
“Why not?” he asked.  
  
I smiled at him.  
  
“It’s making my clock tick,” I said.  
  
Chibs chuckled and kissed my cheek.  
  
“Can I hold him?” he asked.  
  
“Sure, baby.”  
  
I slipped Felix into Chibs’ arms and watched him turn to complete goo. Nothing like a baby to make him fluffy.  
  
“God!” he breathed out, “It’s been a minute since I’ve held a baby that was this small. Wow.”  
  
I smiled and perched my chin on his shoulder, looking down at my brother and sister’s spawn.  
  
“That does it,” I said, “I’m getting off of the stork poison tomorrow.”  
  
Chibs’ head snapped up and his eyes were wide as saucers.  
  
“Really?” he asked, “I thought ya wanted to sit on it for a little while?”  
  
“Even if I get off of it, we’ll have time to think. But I just keep thinking about how I felt after the accident. How I wished it hadn’t have happened. Although, then was _not_ the time to even think about having a kid. Now isn’t the best time, either, but we’re in a better position than we were,” I replied.  
  
He nodded and looked from me to Felix, who was now sleeping soundly in his uncle’s arms.  
  
“How long does it take for birth control to wear off?” he asked.  
  
I shrugged.  
  
“I haven’t been on it long, so it could be two weeks. Could be a month,” I replied.  
  
Chibs hummed thoughtfully, all the while gently rocking Felix.  
  
“Hopefully we’ll have L gone and all this shite taken care of by then,” he replied.  
  
I nodded in agreement.  
  
Movement from the clubhouse door alerted us, and we turned to see Tig shuffle out.  
  
“Where’s my grandson?” he asked loudly.  
  
Chibs and I shushed him almost automatically.  
  
“Don’t fuckin’ wake ‘em!” Chibs hissed.  
  
Tig sighed and walked around Chibs.  
  
“Give him to me before you two decide to run to your room and make one,” he snapped playfully.  
  
We laughed and Chibs passed him off before taking my arm.  
  
“C’mon, Callie girl. Let’s go in and get drunk,” he said.  
  
I laughed.  
  
“Right behind ya.”  
  
***  
  
Tig had not been wrong to assume one of us would destroy our apartment. The thing was, it was not to get into each other’s pants, but to hunt for antacid tablets. I was laying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with two drinks down me, and Chibs was destroying the bathroom.  
  
“Are you sure there were some here?” I asked.  
  
“No, but if I don’t find any, I’m gonna cover this room in puke. Shouldn’t ‘ave drank so much, s’pose,” he said.  
  
“I’m sure scarfing down mozzarella sticks like you hadn’t eaten in weeks doesn’t help,” I said.  
  
The guys had ordered pizza, with sides of salad, breadsticks, mozzarella sticks, wings, cinnamon sticks, and a calzone that disappeared before the pizza did. Plenty of things to upset a sensitive stomach, and Chibs, no matter how much he said he could handle, always had a problem with greasy food. It was the main reason he handmade most of our meals, but it was hard to keep him away from burritos and mozzarella sticks. Once he found a bag of them, he snitched them and a cup of marinara sauce and ate all of them. That mixed with whiskey, and he was paying for it.  
  
“Not even any fuckin’ Pepto goddamn Bismol!” he growled, slamming the medicine cabinet door inside the bathroom.  
  
I sighed and sat up.  
  
“Keep looking. I’ll be right back,” I said.  
  
Chibs banged around the bathroom, and whether he had heard me was unclear, so I quickly disappeared back into the lounge and into the kitchen where one of the Crow Eaters was leaving with a beer. I walked passed her and opened a cabinet where I found a loaf of bread. I grabbed two slices from the bag of Wonder, then made a glass of ice water and took it back to the apartment. It wasn’t a substitute, but I found it helped me when I ate too much spicy or greasy. Hopefully it would help him.  
I returned to the room to find him searching still, rubbing his stomach and looking pissed.  
  
“Come here, baby. Here. Eat this,” I said.  
  
I guided him over to the bed, making him lay down and propping pillows behind him. I gave him the bread and water and received a confused look.  
  
“If I eat one more thing, I’ll pop,” he said.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“I’ll help settle your stomach. Just nibble,” I said.  
  
He sighed, but thanked me before sipping the water and biting the corner off of the first slice. I laid down beside him, pushed his cut back and rubbed his stomach.  
  
“You make me feel like I’m pregnant,” he grumbled.  
  
I laughed.  
  
“Just soothing the food baby,” I teased.  
  
He snorted and took another drink of his water.  
  
“It’s helpin’, though. Thank-you,” he said.  
  
I smiled and sat up. I stroked his angry stomach through his shirt and leaned down to kiss it.  
  
“That make it better?” I asked.  
  
He looked down at me and cocked an eyebrow.  
  
“Maybe,” he said, a smile threatening to appear.  
  
I pushed his button-up and tank up his torso and kissed the skin beneath.  
  
“How much alcohol have ya had?” he asked knowingly.  
  
I smiled up at him.  
  
“Do I have to get drunk to want to make love to my husband?” I asked.  
  
His eyes darkened and a lustful smirk appeared on his lips.  
  
“‘Course not, lovely,” he said.  
  
He finished the bread slices and set the half-empty glass on the nightstand, then slowly sat up. I straddled his legs and he took my hands.  
  
“What would ya do to me?” he asked cockily, biting his bottom lip.  
  
My eyes widened.  
  
“Are you serious?” I asked with a laugh.  
  
He smiled and nodded. I scooted up his legs and began to unbutton his shirt.  
  
“Whatever you wanted,” I said, which was something sober Callie probably wouldn’t have said, but at the moment, my mind was gone.  
  
Chibs smiled and locked his lips with mine. I put my arms around his neck as he kissed me sloppily, yet passionately. I pushed him back on the bed and he reached for the hem of my shirt. Just as my shirt was halfway up my body, there was a knock at the door. We broke away and collectively growled.  
  
“Um, Chibs?” came Chucky’s voice, “Callie? You guys need to come out here. We got a situation.”  
  
“What?” Chibs barked.  
  
Down the hall came Tig’s voice.  
  
“CHIBS!” he yelled.  
  
Chibs and I ripped away from each other, fixed our clothes, and shot out of the apartment. We ran down the hall to find the partiers huddled around worriedly, Venus holding Brooke and Felix close, and Bonnie and Harley looking worried.  
  
“Everyone stay inside. We’ll take care of this,” Tig said, then held his arm out for us, “Come on. Hurry! Before the cops are called.”  
  
Chibs ran before me and I followed them out the door. My brothers were across the lot at the gate, surrounding something. We ran across the lot to see what was going on.  
  
“What happened?” Chibs asked breathlessly.  
  
“Chucky said he saw a black van drive up and dump someone out,” Tig said.  
  
Happy turned to us.  
  
“He’s dead, boss,” he said.  
  
Chibs squeezed passed him.  
  
“Jesus Christ!” he exclaimed.  
  
I wriggled through my brothers, only able to peer around Tig. On the ground, lifeless and bloody, was the body of one of our brothers from another charter.  
  
“That’s Mickey, brother,” Tig said.  
  
“Yeah, and look at his forehead!” Rane said.  
  
Chibs leaned over the body.  
  
“Shit!” he spat, “Callie, c’mere!”  
  
Tig turned and let me through. I cautiously walked up to the body. Chibs gestured to Mickey’s forehead.  
  
“Look,” he said.  
  
I leaned down to see the Roman numeral seven written in blood. I was shocked, as were my brothers, but not for the same reason they were.  
  
“Fuckin’ VII! L!” Tig growled.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
“This wasn’t L,” I said distantly.  
  
The guys looked at me, confused and surprised.  
  
“What do ya mean, love?” Chibs asked.  
  
I swallowed, letting everything settle and trying to piece my thoughts together.  
  
“Remember when AJ from the Freak Riders was killed? He was found with a faked mark, but it was the same as a legitimate mark from The VII. When they killed and marked, they did the Zorro thing. They carve the number in the chest. Every time. A ‘7’ was easier and far quicker to carve than the numerals. That was how they sent their messages. Not like this. Thousand bucks says he got to Indian Hills and made a deal. Probably gave them an offer they couldn’t refuse. Remember at the rally, when Mickey said he had had it with Gaines’ bullshit? L proposed an offer, Mickey didn’t agree, and they shot him. Knowing L was in shit with us, that’s who they laid the blame on.”  
  
Chibs was shaking his head.  
  
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed out.  
  
“She’s right, brother,” Tig said, putting his hands on his hips, “We already had shit with Gaines when Jax killed Jury. L hiring Indian Hills to get what they both want. Indian Hills placing the blame on L. They making a trap.”  
  
“They’re coming after us, baby,” I said to Chibs.  
  
Chibs paled.  
  
“Should we lockdown?” Rane asked.  
  
He shook his head, then quickly stood up.  
  
“I think I’m gonna puke,” he said.  
  
He quickly spun away, only making it so far before he hurled, sick splattering on the concrete. We cringed.  
  
“He wasn’t feeling well earlier. I’ll make sure he gets home,” I said.  
  
“‘Kay. Hap and Montez, find somewhere to bury Mickey. Make sure the body’s clean of trackers or wire. No one, and I mean no one, rides alone. We need to get home now,” Tig ordered.  
  
We nodded and everything was set in motion. I went to Chibs’ side and took his arm.  
  
“You okay, sweetheart?” I asked.  
  
He nodded.  
  
“Feel better now,” he said.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Come on. We need to get home,” I said.  
  
He agreed, and after going in to quickly clean up and grab Harley, we ran out to the car and sped out of the lot.  
We were quiet on the way home, and Harley fell asleep in the backseat.  
  
“I have no fuckin’ idea what we’re gonna do now,” he said, a sense of hopelessness washing over him.  
  
I looked over at him and took the hand holding the gear shift.  
  
“We’ll figure it out,” I said reassuringly.  
  
Chibs sighed, not looking convinced.  
  
We pulled into the driveway, parking under the carport, and Chibs turned and waited, making sure we had no been followed.  
  
“How?” he asked.  
  
I leaned over and took his goatee between my fingers, pulling his focus off of the back windshield and on my eyes. His hard gaze softened when his eyes locked on mine.  
  
“Together,” I said sternly.  
  
He sighed and weakly butted my forehead.  
  
“Aye,” he agreed, “I dunno what I’d do without ya.”  
  
I smiled and kissed him softly.  
  
“Everything’s going to work out, baby.”  
  
Chibs sighed heavily.  
  
“This means war now,” he said, “Ya ready to fight, love?”  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Absolutely.”  
  
I had been ready to fight. I'd fight with my brothers, for my brothers, and I was ready to end the fight with The VII once and for all. No one was going to hurt them, and I'll be damned if something happened to Chibs.


	52. Worries Dissolved

The table was silent. It was the kind of silence that left a ringing in your ears and weighed heavily on your shoulders. The kind of silence that could not be broken, no matter how desperately it begged for it. There was only creaking of leather, someone clearing their throat or lighting a cigarette, and the low hum of the lamps illuminating the Reaper carved into the old table. No one knew what to say. Chibs didn’t even know how to start the meeting. He, like the rest of us, had a million things that needed to be discussed, and no way to start it. This morning’s newspaper had left all of us speechless. Statewide missing persons report for Mickey, who had been reported missing since the day after he was dumped on our doorstep, which was three days ago, and among a missing teenager and another man, was Anna Hanes. The news was out now, and it would only be a matter of time before L discovered his Old Lady was missing.  
  
“Mickey taken care of?” Chibs asked.  
  
“Yeah,” Tig replied softly, “Gave him a proper club burial. He died a brother.”  
  
The table nodded.  
  
“Good,” Chibs said quietly.  
  
He propped his elbows on the table and plowed his fingers back through his hair, frustrated. Rat shifted uncomfortably.  
  
“What do we do now?” he asked shyly, fearful of the response.  
  
Tig looked up at him, then between Chibs and I.  
  
“L wants Callie and Chibs. Gaines most likely wants the rest of us. They’re gonna be waiting for us to come up there,” he began.  
  
“And what if they’re here?” Chibs snapped.  
  
Tig raised an eyebrow at him.  
  
“I was getting to that,” he said lowly.  
  
Chibs sighed and nodded. Happy clapped a hand on his shoulder.  
  
“How about we send Reno up to Indian Hills? Locate the club and L and lock them in?” Tig proposed, “Grim Bastards be put on alert in Lodi, and we search Charming while you two,” he pointed to Chibs and I, “get your asses up the cabin.”  
  
Chibs and I exchanged unsure glances.  
  
“Just until we know for sure that Charming is clear,” Tig clarified, “Montez or Quinn or Hap—whoever will stand guard. Just until we get a 20 on L and Indian Hills. Keep you two safe.”  
  
Chibs glanced from Tig to me.  
  
“What do ya think, darlin’?” he asked tiredly.  
  
I shifted nervously.  
  
“Indian Hills doesn’t know about the cabin?” I asked.  
  
“I’ve been SAMCRO for nearly a year, and even _I_ don’t know how to get there,” T.O. said.  
  
Chibs and I smiled.  
  
“It’d be easier for them to find the house than the cabin,” Chibs said.  
  
I nodded. It wasn’t that I was opposed to the idea of hiding out at the cabin, but it made me nervous being away from the boys and not readily available to help. The house, so long as Harley was with us, was not a big deal. We could afford a new one of whatever we needed. My worry was my boys.  
  
“It’s definitely a better idea than locking down at the clubhouse where all of us are in one spot,” I said, “Put Álvarez on alert, too. The only way for Indian Hills to enter Charming is through Stockton or Lodi. They’ll most likely come through Lodi, but might as well inform the Mayans. Don’t need them pulling a ninja move and fucking with Diosa or Red Woody.”  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“Tha’s a good idea. ‘Kay. Hap, call Álvarez. See what he can do,” he said.  
  
Happy nodded.  
  
“Got it, boss,” he replied.  
  
“Who wants Day Shift at the cabin?” Chibs asked, “Not Rat.”  
  
Rat was just raising his hand when Chibs intercepted it. He looked disappointed.  
  
“Come on, man! It’s not a problem!” he complained.  
  
“Ya have a week old baby at home and an Old Lady who needs you. I’ll be damned if I let that boy grow up without ya. The answer is no,” he said strictly.  
  
Rat nodded and lowered his head.  
  
“You stay here with me,” Tig said to Rat.  
  
Rat nodded again.  
  
“I’ll take Day Shift,” T.O. said.  
  
“We can do nights,” Happy said, pointing to Rane.  
  
“I’m up for days with T,” Montez added.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“‘Kay. Get everyone on alert. Tig, keep the boys near and TM running. The last thing we need is another closing for ‘remodeling.’ Make sure Lyla knows what’s goin’ on and Venus keep tabs on the families.”  
  
Tig nodded.  
  
“T.O. and Montez, follow Callie girl and to the house. We’ll go ahead and head to the cabin now. Grab some supplies and drive out there. We’ll definitely need dog food,” Chibs said.  
  
I smiled and nodded.  
  
“Make a couple of Crow Eaters stock the cabin. Make a list of supplies. All that’s out there is toilet paper, one beer and a bag of weed,” Tig said.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“That works. We’ll make a list. Someone follow us with the van so we can haul the dog,” he said.  
  
The guys nodded.  
  
“Everythin’ clear?” he asked.  
  
We nodded. Chibs slammed the gavel down and we set to work. I moved over to the bookcase and grabbed a pen and paper to make a grocery list.  
  
“Camping at the cabin,” I said.  
  
Chibs stood up and approached me.  
  
“A lot more fun when you’re not bein’ hunted. Definitely more fun with everyone there. Maybe when this is over. In the fall,” he said.  
  
I gave him a small smile as I opened the notebook to a blank page and began to scribble down supplies.  
  
“Yeah,” I agreed quietly.  
  
He was right, of course. I hated this. Having to sneak around, keep ourselves incognito. If anyone got hurt, it was our fault—well, my fault.  
I scribbled down essentials, like toilet paper and milk, when Chibs reached around my face and touched my cheek, drawing my head up.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
I stopped midway through penning the word “bread” and looked up him. He smiled softly.  
  
“We’re gonna make it through this, love. We’ll bounce back. We always do,” he said reassuringly.  
  
I smiled and set the pen down before slipping my arms around his waist, receiving a warm hug and a kiss on the forehead.  
  
“I know,” I replied.  
  
He cradled the back of my head and leaned back to look at me.  
  
“I’m gonna make this right,” he said.  
  
I sighed and smiled, reaching up to pat his chest.  
  
“I know you will, baby. I don’t doubt you.”  
  
He smiled and hugged me again.  
  
“I love ya, sweetheart. More than anythin’. I’m gonna keep ya safe.”  
  
I sighed and closed my eyes, nuzzling my face into his cut. It wasn’t _my_ safety I was concerned about…  
  
***  
  
Dark clouds rolled in over Charming, and by the time we arrived at the cabin, it was pouring. Chibs and I quickly ran inside after parking behind the cabin and grabbing our bags and Harley out of the back of the van and checking to make sure Montez and T.O. had everything before locking ourselves inside, making sure every door and window were locked and the curtains drawn. The Crow Eaters had made sure we had everything on our list that we would possibly need. I didn’t know why I doubted them, but for some reason it had given me anxiety. In fact, since Mickey’s death, everything had given my anxiety, and sleep was hard to come by.  
I was scared. Scared for my own safety, scared for my boys, but above all, scared for Chibs. What if I couldn’t end this? What if I couldn’t protect my club or my Old Man? I would never forgive myself if I failed them. Call my crash landing in Charming a coincidence. Call The VII finding me a freak accident. It didn’t matter. I brought the trouble to the club. I was the reason Juice and RJ were dead, and I knew I could be tied to Mickey’s death. I knew Anna had to have been right, and L had sought out Indian Hills. They had made their bed killing Mickey, leaving his body as a message—a warning. Mayhem had to land, but we needed to prove that our suspicions were correct. That was the hard part.  
Thunder rumbled above the cabin, vibrating through the wooden floor and shaking the mounted deer heads on the walls. I was sitting on the couch by the front window, peaking outside as I held a sleeping Harley in my arms. He hadn’t minded our little vacation, and the sound of the rain had lulled him to sleep. I rubbed the backs of his ears and looked around the room, bittersweet memories of my last visit here coming back. Getting high with Juice. I had no idea how much I would cherish that until now. I sighed and kissed the top of the puppy’s head before hugging him and glancing back out through the crack in the curtains, watching the van.  
Chibs reentered from the hallway and stalked into the kitchen to grab a drink. I watched him pass through before turning my attention back to the window.  
  
“Bed’s made. Got enough food and materials to last us a week. Phones are chargin’,” he said.  
  
I didn’t reply as I looked at the coffee table, our guns laying out, ready for anything. Chibs entered the living room with a glass of amber liquid, most likely his favorite whiskey. He took a sip and set it on a coaster by the guns on the coffee table.  
  
“Ya okay, lovely?” he asked softly.  
  
I looked up from staring absently at the glass and nodded. Harley yawned and slipped out of my lap, walking over to another couch and hopping up into it. Chibs leaned down, took my hands, and lifted them as he sat beside me, encompassing my hands in his and kissing my knuckles. I smiled as I watched him.  
  
“Ya look worried,” he observed, and reached up to curl a piece of hair behind my ear.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Can you blame me?” I asked.  
  
He cracked a small smile.  
  
“S’pose not,” he said, eyes locking with mine.  
  
He tilted his head slightly to the side and cupped the side of my face.  
  
“This is just a precaution, sweetheart.”  
  
I smiled and reached up to take his hand.  
  
“I know. I just hate this. I don’t like being so far away from the club,” I admitted.  
  
Chibs smiled.  
  
“They’ll be fine,” he reassured me.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
“If anyone else gets hurt or killed—“  
  
“Callie, they know the risks. And don’t ya dare put this on yourself, okay?” he said strictly.  
  
I looked down and nodded. Chibs sighed and cupped my face, coaxing my head back up to look at him.  
  
“Hey. It’s all gonna get better. I promise ya that.”  
  
I smiled and reached up to cup his cheek and kiss him. He kissed me back before pulling me into a tight hug. When we parted, he suddenly smiled and patted my thigh.  
  
“Let’s get your mind off of it,” he suggested.  
  
I furrowed my eyebrows. He looked around the room and his eyes locked on the pool table. His dark brown irises lightened to a copper color with the idea that flew into his head.  
  
“How about we play some pool?” he asked.  
  
I raised an eyebrow at him.  
  
“But there’s a catch,” he added quickly.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Knew it,” I said.  
  
“Loser has to be the winner’s slave for a week,” he said.  
  
I felt my jaw drop.  
  
“Oh, Jesus!” I exclaimed.  
  
Chibs grinned.  
  
“What?” he asked with a laugh.  
  
I smiled and shook my head.  
  
“Loser has to be a slave?” I asked.  
  
He nodded. He seemed proud of his idea.  
  
“Ya win, and I have to do whatever ya want me to do. However, if I win…” he said with a wink.  
  
“So long as it doesn’t cross the line,” I said.  
  
Chibs sniffed.  
  
“Nah. Just all in good fun, love. What do ya say?”  
  
I chewed the inside of my cheek in thought.  
  
“No cheating,” I warned him.  
  
Chibs scoffed.  
  
“I’m not gonna cheat!” he exclaimed, appalled.  
  
I just laughed at him.  
  
“In fact,” he continued, and leaned down until our noses were just a hair apart, “I might let ya win.”  
  
I smirked. Cocky bastard. Although, he had every right to be cocky, as I was terrible at pool. I had a feeling that he knew he had already won.  
  
“You’re on,” I said.  
  
And I better not regret it. Chibs grinned and kissed me roughly before taking my hand and leading me to the table. He set it up while I grabbed the cues and passed him one, mentally preparing myself for a week of slavery.  
  
***  
  
“I even let ya have that one! Callie!” Chibs whined.  
  
I slumped over the table. I had been doing pretty well for not having that much experience with the game. I took my precautions, and at the beginning of the game, I was getting nowhere. However, after getting the hang of it, and a lucky streak, it had come down to the last ball before the 8 ball. I accidentally shot the 8 ball in with it, and ultimately lost the game.  
  
“I hate this game!” I groaned into the felt.  
  
Chibs laughed and re-racked the balls.  
  
“I tried to take it easy on ya. You did this to yourself, love,” he said.  
  
I raised myself up and blew my cheeks out.  
  
“I did,” I agreed.  
  
Chibs’ eyes darkened and he reached for my cue to put it up.  
  
“Ya know what happens now,” he sang.  
  
I sighed.  
  
“Just don’t expect me to call you master,” I said.  
  
Chibs burst out laughing and walked around the table to me.  
  
“Nah, I won’t make ya do that,” he said.  
  
Suddenly, he grabbed me by the waist and placed me on the edge of the pool table. I gasped and looked up at him in shock. He gave me a crooked smile of mischief.  
  
“I just want you, and to make better use of this table,” he said.  
  
I couldn’t help but smile at that. He closed the space between us and pressed his lips to mine, causing my mind to cloud. I felt him smile into our kiss, making me smile and put my arms around his neck.  
  
“The pool table, though?” I asked when we parted to catch our breath.  
  
“Well I didn’t wanna mess up the sheets just yet,” he replied, being genuine.  
  
I laughed and coaxed his head back down, letting him take my mouth as his, and the table as ours.  
It never ceased to amaze me how fast he could turn me on, and how much pleasure I could reach, even when we were not in the most comfortable setting or completely undressed. It didn’t matter anymore. Among the pleasure, all I knew was him, and all I could feel was love. Didn’t matter if there was scratched wood or silk sheets beneath me. Chibs always made me feel loved, and as he brought me to the peak of pleasure, all I could hear were flutes, violins, bass drums and bagpipes.  
  
***  
  
There were ten seconds of peace that Chibs experienced when he first woke in the mornings. Or, whenever he woke up. Ten seconds where he didn’t remember anything. He felt normal and calm in those ten seconds, and when they were over, the world came crashing down on him. The fear of dying. Losing his club. Being arrested. Every little awful waking nightmare rushing back at the speed of light. Every death. Every pain. Every piece of evil that presented itself to him—to the club. However, on this morning, like every morning waking up at his Old Lady’s side, his ten seconds of peace were now endless. This morning was no exception.  
Sometimes he woke up somehow entangled in Callie’s legs, laying with the width of the bed. Most of the time he would wake with her curled against his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her, taking pride in knowing she was in the safest place she could be. However, he often found himself in her position. Head resting on her shoulder, one or both arms wound around her waist, her arms wrapped securely around him. He found that he felt no safer than when he was being cuddled by her, and since he had started sharing his bed with her, he never woke up with just ten seconds of peace. He woke up wrapped in security for the first time in years. No, there wasn’t any place safer than his Old Lady’s arms.  
Chibs’ phone vibrated on the wooden nightstand, the rumbling making him jump. Callie jumped awake and looked around worriedly.  
  
“The hell?” she asked groggily.  
  
Chibs rolled onto his back and picked up his phone.  
  
“Just Tig,” he said as he read the caller I.D.  
  
Callie sighed and settled back down. Chibs flipped his phone opened and answered.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Hey, brother,” Tig replied tiredly.  
  
“Hey. Ya find anythin’?” Chibs asked.  
  
“Nah,” Tig replied, “Checked high and low. Charming’s clear. Even the surrounding area. Your place, too, just to make sure. Spent the whole night out there. Made sure no one was hiding out on the property some where. L didn’t stick around. We think he’s up in Nevada somewhere. Probably hiding out with Indian Hills. You guys can come home.”  
  
Chibs smiled at that.  
  
“Good. Thank you,” he replied.  
  
“No problem. I’ve already given Hap and Quinn the head’s up. You guys can ride back in with them,” Tig said.  
  
Chibs agreed, and Tig told him to wish Callie a good morning before they said their goodbyes and hung up.  
Callie roused and glanced at him.  
  
“Who was that?” she asked.  
  
Chibs cleared his throat and set his phone back on the nightstand.  
  
“Tiggy. Says we’re clear to go home,” he replied, then rolled over and pulled her close.  
  
Callie smiled and rolled onto her side, facing him and absently fiddling with the beads around his neck that he seldom removed.  
  
“Guess I won’t have to cancel that doctors appointment after all,” she said, a smile slowly creeping upon her lips.  
  
Confused, Chibs furrowed his eyebrows and looked away, trying to remember anything about a doctors appointment. Had she mentioned it, he had long since forgotten.  
  
“What doctors appointment?” he asked.  
  
She just smiled and lightly stroked his bare chest.  
  
“The lady doctor,” she replied with a wink, “I wanted to get checked out. Make sure everything healed. Get off the pill.”  
  
Chibs’ eyes widened.  
  
“Oh yeah!” he said, everything finally dawning on him.  
  
He then cracked a smile.  
  
“I didn’t know that was today,” he said.  
  
Callie smiled and nodded.  
  
“Called the morning after Felix’s coming home party. Today was the only day they could get me in. Getting a full…examination, if you catch my drift,” she said.  
  
Chibs laughed.  
  
“I’m sure you’re fine. Ya want me to go with ya?” he asked.  
  
She shook her head. Chibs frowned at this.  
  
“Ya can’t be goin’ alone, love,” he reminded her.  
  
“I know. I asked Venus if she would come with me. I don’t know how long it will take, but I know you’ll probably be bored out of your mind. You go ahead and get business taken care of,” she said.  
  
“Ya sure?” Chibs asked.  
  
Callie smiled.  
  
“Yes! If you drop me off at Tig’s, Vee and I will run down to the clinic, I’ll get checked out and get an estimate on when we can, you know…try again,” she replied.  
  
Chibs beamed and leaned down, pressing a small kiss to her lips. Callie’s eyes closed as he took her hands in his.  
  
“We can wait as long as ya need, sweetheart,” he said softly.  
  
However, he was impatient.  
  
Family was his center. It grounded him and gave him something to look forward to. Whether it be his club family or blood, he loved both equally. When he lost Fiona and Kerrianne, who had been just a small child when Jimmy O’Phelan intervened, he had been lost. When he was patched over to SAMCRO, John Teller, who was still President at the time, made him feel welcome, and he find solace in the brotherhood. He thrived on family and social connection, so when his nights of loneliness ended when Callie started living with him, he found his second chance. A second chance to prove he was a good husband. A second chance to be a father. He was a family man, and at the end of the day, that was all he wanted. The fact that he was doing it with the woman he considered his best friend—his beautiful Old Lady, made everything that much more special.  
Harley, who had been sleeping at the foot of the bed, crawled his way up the sheets and settled between them. Chibs smiled and Callie chuckled.  
  
“He’s not gonna like sharin’ the attention,” he said, stroking the puppy’s head.  
  
Callie smiled and leaned down, kissing the top of Harley’s muzzle.  
  
“He’ll learn to be a good big brother,” she said.  
  
Chibs could not help but smile and passionately kissed her, the promise of mending the last bit of his life making him exceedingly happy.  
  
***  
  
One of my favorite things about the club is their deep love for each other. I noticed that at the very beginning. We really were just one big family, and it was hard to stay separated for a long time. Or, any amount of time, really. This was especially true between the members. None of us could go very long without at least stepping out to have a smoke or having a drink with each other. When Chibs and I arrived at Tig’s house, it was like when we returned from Scotland. We had only been gone half a day and a night, but to Tig and Venus, it could have been months.  
Chibs knocked on Tig’s door, and what would have been about a ten second wait for someone to come to the door couldn’t have been more than a second or two. One to peer through the peephole, and another to throw the door open. I only had a brief moment to prepare for the collision of bodies that came next.  
  
“Jesus Christ!” Tig exclaimed, and his arms went around me first, “Come here, baby. Are you okay?”  
  
I was confused, but I put my arms around him anyway.  
  
“I’m fine, Tig. It was just one night at the cabin,” I said.  
  
Venus moved up to Chibs and hugged him.  
  
“Good morning, Filip,” she said.  
  
Chibs kissed her cheek.  
  
“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he replied.  
  
Tig moved back and kissed my forehead.  
  
“I know. I just…last night, when I was out checking your house, I just kept thinking of what could happen and what I’d find if L were to—“  
  
“Tiggy,” Chibs interrupted, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “Don’t think like that. We’re here and we’re fine.”  
  
Tig just nodded and looked away. Venus smiled sympathetically.  
  
“You’re just exhausted, sugar,” she said to Tig.  
  
Tig nodded. Chibs lightly punched his shoulder.  
  
“Come on. Ya can crash at the clubhouse. Hap and Quinn are waitin’. We’re gonna run the dog home and drop our stuff off. Ya can keep me company on the road,” he suggested.  
  
Tig smiled and nodded, his spirits seeming to lift at the promise of a ride. He put an arm around Chibs shoulders and the other around me, pulling us close. He was paranoid, and for good reason. The was a price on the club’s heads, and an even higher one on mine and Chibs’. I’m sure if it were the other way around, we would be fussing over him, too.  
  
“I missed you guys,” he said.  
  
Chibs kissed Tig’s cheek.  
  
“We missed ya, too, Tiggy,” he replied softly.  
  
I gave Tig a gentle squeeze. When we parted, Venus took Tig’s arm and rubbed it.  
  
“Go grab your helmet, Alexander. I’ll get your cut,” she said.  
  
Tig nodded and rubbed the end of his nose before turning and walking back inside. Chibs and I watched after him with concern.  
  
“He okay?” Chibs asked.  
  
Venus crossed her arms over her chest.  
  
“He’s still shaken from Mickey’s death. He needs some sleep. And time with his brothers,” she said.  
  
Chibs nodded.  
  
“Aye,” he agreed.  
  
Venus gestured for us to follow with a tilt of her head.  
  
“Come on in,” she said.  
  
She turned around, and we followed her inside. She walked over to the recliner and picked up Tig’s cut.  
  
“What time is your appointment, hun?” she asked.  
  
I cleared my throat.  
  
“10:30,” I replied.  
  
Although, I probably wouldn’t get in until 11:00. Or even looked at.  
  
Venus checked the time on her phone.  
  
“Okay, we have a little bit of time,” she said.  
  
Tig returned with his helmet dangling from his hand. Venus smiled, handed him his cut, and kissed him.  
  
“Thank you, baby,” Tig said tiredly.  
  
“You’re so welcome, sweetheart,” she replied.  
  
She helped him slip into his cut and he walked by us to open the door.  
  
“Ready, Chibby?” he asked.  
  
Chibs looked back at him.  
  
“Yeah, just give me a minute,” he said.  
  
Tig nodded and put his helmet over his mess of curls. He walked outside and closed the door behind him. Venus approached Chibs and put her hands on his shoulders.  
  
“Filip, he’s spun out. You think you can get his focus back on track? Bring him back?” she asked.  
  
Chibs smiled warmly.  
  
“Of course, darlin’,” he replied.  
  
Venus’ smile was nothing but appreciative.  
  
“‘Kay. Callie, I’m going to go finish up and we can go,” she said.  
  
I nodded. She turned on her heel and walked down the hall, leaving Chibs and I to ourselves.  
  
“I’d say have fun, but…”  
  
I laughed and turned to face him.  
  
“Behave,” he said.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“I’ll try,” I replied, “I just hope I can come back with good news.”  
  
Chibs smiled and stroked my cheek.  
  
“Ya will,” he said softly.  
  
I smiled and he leaned down to kiss me.  
  
“Have Venus bring ya straight to TM when you’re done, alright?”  
  
I nodded. Chibs smiled lovingly.  
  
“‘Kay. I’m gonna head out. Ya stay outta trouble. Ya hear me?”  
  
I nodded.  
  
“I will, baby. You ride safe,” I said.  
  
He nodded.  
  
“I will,” he said, then kissed me once more before pulling me into a hug, “I love ya, sweetheart.”  
  
I kissed his neck.  
  
“Love you, too, Filip,” I replied quietly.  
  
He kissed my hairline before pulling away. He squeezed my hand and smiled before opening the door to join Tig. I watched through the screen door as he walked out to the Dyna and mounted it, saying something to Tig, who nodded.  
Down the hall, Venus walked back in, dressed in a fluttery blue and white shirt, black shorts that displayed her long legs, and black flats.  
  
“Alright, baby. Let’s hit the road,” she said, grabbing her purse and car keys from the coffee table.  
  
I adjusted the strap of my messenger bag and turned, pushing the screen door open and waiting for Venus.  
  
“It’s been a little while since we’ve had a girls day,” she said as she passed me, thanking me for holding the door and stopping to lock it.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Yeah, it has,” I agreed.  
  
Lord knew I needed it, too.  
  
***  
  
“Is this one of those regular things?” Venus asked.  
  
I looked over to her. We were in the medical district of Charming, just passing by St. Thomas Hospital. The clinic was just a block away.  
  
“Check-up kinda thing?” Venus continued.  
  
I smiled and shook my head.  
  
“Not a regular thing,” I replied.  
  
Venus frowned at that.  
  
“Is something wrong, sugar?” she asked.  
  
My eyes widened in surprise.  
  
“No, no. Not that I know of, anyway,” I said.  
  
Venus changed lanes and stopped, waiting for a clear moment to turn.  
  
“I just wanted to come get checked out. See if everything healed right after that attack,” I replied.  
  
Venus crossed the street and shot me a suspicious look.  
  
“Baby, that was months ago. I could be wrong, but shouldn’t you have had a follow-up shortly after?” she asked.  
  
I took a deep breath and nodded.  
  
“Well, yeah,” I said slowly.  
  
Venus raised a perfect eyebrow at me. I smiled at her.  
  
“Vee, I’m fine. I just wanted to make sure. Also need to talk to the doctor about…” I trailed off, not sure how to word it, or if Venus needed to know yet.  
  
“About what?” she asked worriedly.  
  
I sighed. She was already taking me to the appointment. I guess there was no need in keeping her in the dark.  
  
“Turn here,” I instructed as the clinic came upon us.  
  
Venus stopped and turned into the parking lot.  
  
“About getting back off the pill,” I finished.  
  
It was a good thing Venus had found a quick parking spot, because with the way she had stopped so suddenly, we could have wrecked. She slammed on the brakes just before we could hit the sidewalk in front of us, shot me the most shocked looked I had ever seen her wear, then ripped the car into Park.  
  
“Oh my good gracious, child!” she exclaimed, then in a hushed voice asked, “Are you and Filip trying to have a baby?”  
  
I blushed hard and looked away, nodding. I expected Venus to flip shit, but instead, she squealed and yanked me into a hug over the center console.  
  
“Oh my God! Come here, sugar,” she said, wrapping her long arms around me.  
  
I smiled, breaking out of my nervousness.  
  
“Jesus!” she breathed out, and pulled back to hold me by the shoulders, hazel eyes locking with mine, “When did you two decide this?”  
  
I wrung my hands.  
  
“When Felix was born,” I replied.  
  
Venus snorted, smiling and waving me off.  
  
“I knew it, girl! I knew it! I knew it! I told Alexander. I said, ‘Watch. As soon as Brooke and George have that baby, Filip and Callie will be next.’ I knew as soon as I saw your start to cry when Brooke held him!”  
  
I laughed.  
  
“It wasn’t just Felix,” I replied.  
  
“Little Thomas?” she asked.  
  
I smiled, guilty.  
  
“Him, too, but after that attack, it’s just been something that is always on our minds. Then, after Felix was born, Chibs said he was ready, but we wanted to give ourselves time to think. Nothing is set in stone yet. It’s just something we feel ready to do.”  
  
Venus smiled.  
  
“Well, you know that man loves kids. Now, I know he had a daughter with his ex-wife,” she began.  
  
I tried not to react. No one except Chibs and I knew what had happened with Kerrianne.  
  
“I never saw them together, but I saw him with Jackson’s boys, and let me tell you something. Family is something that means the world to him. He’s not going to want to stop at just one!”  
  
I laughed at that.  
  
“And, sugar,” she continued, leaning over to me and taking my hands, “I saw how torn up he was after he found out what happened. He was heartbroken, baby.”  
  
I frowned and looked down. I could not imagine what it was like—how he reacted.  
  
“I know,” I replied, “That’s why we’re trying again.”  
  
Venus smiled at me. She then grinned and patted my leg.  
  
“Come on. Let’s go in and get this over with. The sooner it’s done, the closer the next step is. I have a feeling one SAMCRO baby is not going to be enough.”  
  
I laughed and unbuckled, climbing out of the car. Venus locked it and we fell in step with each other on the sidewalk.  
  
“I wonder what everyone’s going to think when they see me in there,” she said lightheartedly.  
  
I smiled up at her.  
  
“You’re just my company for the waiting room and my ride. Anyone who thinks otherwise can eat shit. Just going to the doctor with my mom,” I said.  
  
Venus suddenly stopped and stared at me. For a moment, I wasn’t sure how to react, but when I was suddenly swept into a hug, I didn’t regret what I had said.  
  
“Thank-you, baby,” she said softly.  
  
I kissed her cheek.  
  
“You’re welcome.”  
  
Venus beamed and took my hand.  
  
“Come on. Let’s get you checked in,” she said.  
  
I smiled and took it, walking into the place that currently held my future.  
  
***  
  
“Okay, Mrs. Telford,” the doctor said as he walked into the room.  
  
I looked up at him nervously from my spot on the bed, finally dressed and tired of being prodded and tested like a science experiment. I was ready for my results. Good or bad, I wanted them now so I could return to TM and spend much needed time with my brothers.  
  
“There was no scar tissue. No major damage or abnormalities to speak of. You are perfectly healthy. As far as I’m concerned, you and your husband should be able to try again. After you stop taking the pill, the hormones will be out of your system in a couple of days, and since you were not on it long, I would predict you will be able to try and conceive with the next few weeks. Now, it could take longer, but I’m sure it won’t be.”  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Just no smoking or drinking. Does your husband smoke?” he asked.  
  
Shit.  
  
“Yeah,” I replied slowly.  
  
“Okay. The reason I ask is because if he could cut back, it will make for a higher sperm count,” he said.  
  
I tried not to laugh. Not because immature thoughts were running through my head, but because he had not had any problems before.  
  
“That is, if you want to conceive a little bit faster,” he explained.  
  
I just smiled and nodded.  
  
“I’ll run that by him,” I said.  
  
The doctor chuckled and sat down on his stool, grabbing his clipboard from the table and sliding a Post-It pad towards him.  
  
“Now, I’m going to write down a couple of things that will help the both of you be more prepared. Just foods and vitamins to keep in mind. Get the process on track,” he said, scribbling down what I knew was going to be illegible chicken-scratch.  
  
“Cool,” was the only reply I had.  
  
He set his pen down and ripped the piece of neon green paper off of the pad and handed it to me. I thanked him and looked down, able to make out a list of fruit and a couple of different vitamins, as well as a note to remember not to be smoking or drinking.  
  
“And, I believe we’re all done,” the doctor said.  
  
I placed the note in my wallet and thanked him before standing. I grabbed my bag, and he followed me out the door and down to the front office, where I finished up and met back with Venus in the front lobby. When I entered, she looked up and smiled before grabbing her purse and standing.  
  
“All done?” she asked.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Yeah. Sorry it took so long. They did more tests than I expected,” I said.  
  
Venus put a hand on my back and guided me out the door.  
  
“Well, how did everything turn out?” she asked.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Everything’s fine,” I replied.  
  
Venus sighed in relief.  
  
“Oh, thank goodness! Filip’s going to be very happy,” she said.  
  
“Yeah,” I agreed, “You can’t let anyone know, Vee. I don’t want anyone knowing. We’ll announce it after it happens. I want it to be a surprise.”  
  
Venus pantomimed zipping her lips shut.  
  
“Your secret’s safe with me, baby,” she replied.  
  
We returned to the car and climbed inside, Venus situating herself and turning the air conditioner on.  
  
“I know you said you guys had not fully decided, but I hope you two decide to do this. You both deserve to be happy after all of this drama, and I know there’s nothing that will make either of you happier than starting a family.”  
  
I smiled shyly. That was absolutely true.  
  
“Bringing heirs to the throne,” Venus continued.  
  
I laughed at that.  
  
“I guess so,” I agreed.  
  
Venus ruffled my hair and put the car in reverse.  
  
“When do you plan on telling us, though? You know I’m not going to be able to stand it,” she said.  
  
I smiled at her.  
  
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” I teased.  
  
Venus smiled.  
  
“I think I can do that,” she said, “Let’s go see our boys. Let Filip know the good news.”  
  
I smiled and looked out the window, trying to imagine Chibs’ reaction. Should I be an ass and pretend like all hope was lost, or outright tell him? Either way, I couldn’t wait to see that man’s eyes light up.  
  
When we arrived at TM, Chucky was missing from the garage office, somey, of the guys were inside the garage working, and Rat was in the office taking a call. I walked inside, followed by Venus. Rat had the phone wedged between an ear and shoulder, writing down some information on a notepad.  
  
“Okay, thank-you,” Rat said, then hung up.  
  
When he looked up, he smiled at me.  
  
“Hey, Cal,” he said, then reached over to hug me before hugging Venus.  
  
“Hi, sweetheart,” Venus said, kissing his cheek.  
  
I moved to sit in the chair.  
  
“Where’s Tiger?” Venus asked.  
  
Rat pointed to the clubhouse across the lot.  
  
“He’s passed out in the apartment,” he replied.  
  
Venus nodded.  
  
“Is Chibs out there?” I asked.  
  
Rat crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
“No. He’s not even here,” he replied.  
  
My heart leapt into my throat.  
  
“What?” I exclaimed.  
  
Rat smiled.  
  
“Take it easy. He’s with Hap. They ran out to pick up lunch,” he replied.  
  
I let out a breath of relief. Rat smiled.  
  
“I better help the guys finish this job,” he said, then turned away and walked back into the garage.  
  
Venus turned and started to shut the door when she shuddered.  
  
“Shit!” she blurted out, her voice lowering considerably.  
  
I stared at her in surprise, not used to hearing the tone or her curse.  
  
“What?” I asked worriedly.  
  
Venus stood to the side, and I looked out the door to see an all too familiar police cruiser pull in.  
  
“Please let it be Eglee,” I said.  
  
The cruiser pulled up close to the door, and all hope was lost when not the blonde officer, but the uptight brunette Sheriff Jarry walk out in full uniform, aviators over her eyes and a scowl on her face. I sighed. Great.  
I leaned back in the chair and propped my feet up. Venus turned fully to face Althea, and I could sense her tension. Althea stepped just over the threshold and removed her sunglasses.  
  
“Good afternoon,” she said stiffly.  
  
Venus just glared at her.  
  
“Need an oil change, Sheriff?” I asked, absently picking at my nails.  
  
Althea pursed her lips.  
  
“No,” she said.  
  
“Tires aired up?” I pressed on.  
  
Althea cleared her throat, already irritated with me. I smiled to myself. She was too easy to piss off.  
  
“No,” she said sternly, “I would like to speak with you and your husband. That is, if you’ll let me.”  
  
I cut my eyes at her.  
  
“He’s not here,” I said.  
  
Althea seemed surprised.  
  
“And today is probably not the best day for you to bring more drama to the table. Is this a dire situation?” Venus asked in a snippy tone.  
  
I looked up from picking at my nails to see Venus having a face-off with the sheriff, staring dangerously at the shorter woman, protective-mode engaged and claws out.  
  
“Not dire, but I do consider it important,” Althea said.  
  
Venus did not back down. I knew she was just being protective, and I appreciated it, but this wasn’t necessary.  
  
“Then unless it’s a matter of life and death—“  
  
“Venus,” I said.  
  
Venus snapped her head over to me.  
  
“It’s okay,” I said.  
  
Venus hesitantly let her guard down, if only by a little bit.  
  
“Why don’t you go into the clubhouse and check on Tig?” I suggested.  
  
At the mention of her Old Man’s name, she perked up.  
  
“Good idea. Okay. I’ll be back, baby,” she said to me, then narrowed her eyes at Althea, “If I hear that you gave my daughter shit, you’ll never hear the end of it.”  
  
Althea lowered her gaze. Venus walked around her and out the door. I stood up and leaned my backside against the desk.  
  
“Can this be discussed with me, or do you absolutely need Filip?” I asked.  
  
Althea clasped her hands in front of her.  
  
“We can discuss it alone. I’m sure I’m the last person he wants to see, anyway,” she said.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Close the door,” I ordered.  
  
She reluctantly obeyed and closed the door.  
  
“She’s quite the protective…matriarch,” she observed, peeking out the window to see Venus crossing the lot, “Guess she learned that from the late Gemma Teller-Morrow.”  
  
I smirked.  
  
“She’s fierce, and she’d be damned to let anything happen to us,” I replied.  
  
Althea nodded and stepped closer.  
  
“So, what did you want to discuss?” I asked.  
  
Althea gestured to the couch.  
  
“You mind?” she asked.  
  
I shook my head. Althea sat down on the old plaid couch, her spine rigid.  
  
“I’m sure you know about the death of a member in your Indian Hills charter. Went by Mickey,” she said.  
  
I snorted.  
  
“We get the paper,” I said, pushing myself off of the desk, “And believe it or not, we can read.”  
  
Althea tried to conceal her amusement.  
  
“I don’t doubt that. Do you have any idea why he would suddenly go missing?” she asked.  
  
I paced the floor and shook my head. Althea cleared her throat.  
  
“Well, I’m sure that if you know about Mickey, you also know about Anna Hanes, Lancaster Hanes’ wife,” she assumed.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Yeah, I saw her picture in the paper,” I said.  
  
“I’m assuming you knew her from being part of that MC,” Althea said.  
  
I stopped pacing and turned to fully face her, glaring daggers at her.  
  
“I really hope you didn’t come up here just to accuse me,” I snapped.  
  
Althea scoffed.  
  
“I’m not! I just find it strange that after getting an anonymous tip about Hanes’ whereabouts, his wife and a member of the charter he supposedly ran off to go missing,” she said.  
  
I crossed my arms over my chest.  
  
“Sounds like the dumb bastard dug himself a hole,” I said.  
  
“Well, any information you could share could help, Callie!” she snapped, “Don’t you understand? I’m trying to keep you and the MC safe?”  
  
I snorted.  
  
“Me and the MC, or Filip?” I sneered.  
  
Althea was speechless for a moment.  
  
“I’m sure you could care less if SAMCRO fell off the face of the earth, but I know how you still feel about him,” I spat, and marched back over to the chair to sit down.  
  
Althea shifted uncomfortably, not meeting my eyes.  
  
“Am I wrong?” I asked.  
  
Althea glanced up at me, and when she spoke again, she took my off guard. Her authoritative tone was gone, and Lieutenant Sheriff Jarry turned into just plain Althea.  
  
“No,” she said quietly, “I know where I stand in this and I know where his heart lies, but he’s a good man, and I learned that in the short time we were…”  
  
“Building trust?” I asked.  
  
She nodded. I stood up and moved to sit beside her. She jumped, watching me fearfully.  
  
“I can’t make a deal with a cop, and that’s not what I’m doing now, but I know you still care about him. I have a heavy price on my head, but he’s in just as much danger. If you still care about him—even love him, as much as I do, then you will do your duty as a cop and as an individual to help us. You understand me?”  
  
She nodded.  
  
“Don’t do it for me. Do it for Chibs. I can’t lose him, and neither can the club. It’ll crumble without him, and when the Sons go, so does Charming,” I said.  
  
Althea nodded again.  
  
“You guys are the victims here. As far as I’m concerned, you’re citizens of Charming endangered by a murderer,” she said.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“I’m going to do whatever I can to keep Hanes away from Charming and trying to get to the club. For Filip, and for you,” she said.  
  
I felt my jaw drop.  
  
“Why me?” I asked.  
  
Althea stood up. As far as I was concerned, she hated me.  
  
She shrugged.  
  
“I know how much you mean to him, but I see no need to keep tension between us. I saw how he was—how you both were after you were attacked. I saw how much you loved each other. I just wanted to help. I saw how selfish I was being. Guess I just want to make it up to you guys somehow.”  
  
I stood up from the couch.  
  
“Find L. That’s how you can make it up to us. Well, me, at least. Maybe Chibs, as well,” I replied.  
  
She nodded.  
  
Outside, we heard the low rumbling of the van, and could see it pulling in.  
  
“I’ll keep you updated,” Althea said.  
  
I nodded. She started to leave when I stopped her.  
  
“Althea,” I said.  
  
She halted and turned back to me. I stepped up to her.  
  
“Thank you,” I said quietly.  
  
Althea gave me a small smile and nodded before placing her shades over her eyes and walking out the door. I watched her leave, feeling a little more confident than I had since Mickey turned up dead on our doorstep. I knew Althea was only helping because of Chibs, but if her feelings for him—using him as leverage, was the only way to keep him and my boys safe, then so be it. I hoped it was enough for her to grab the reach she would need to arrest L, or maybe shoot him between the eyes. At least, find him so I could.  
The van parked in front of the clubhouse and Chibs and Happy climbed out with boxes and bags. I walked out to the clubhouse and caught up to them as they walked up to the bar and set the boxes out.  
  
“Soup’s on, boys!” Chibs called.  
  
I walked in and when Chibs eyes fell on me, he shot over to me.  
  
“Hey, baby,” I said happily.  
  
Chibs smiled warmly and pecked my lips.  
  
“Hello, m’ love. Let’s go outside so we can hear,” he suggested.  
  
He took my hand and led me out to the picnic tables.  
  
“Firstly, what the hell did Althea want?” he asked, sitting on the table top and pulling me into him.  
  
I shrugged.  
  
“She was just asking about Mickey and Anna. I told her I didn’t know anything,” I replied.  
  
He smiled.  
  
“Tha’s my girl. What about the doctor’s appointment? How’d it go?” he asked.  
  
I faked a frown and looked down. Chibs was immediately worried.  
  
“Callie,” he said, gripping my hands, “What happened? What’d they tell ya?”  
  
I swallowed.  
  
“Good news and bad news,” I replied.  
  
Chibs took a deep breath.  
  
“‘Kay. Tell me the bad news first,” he said.  
  
I immediately regretted this tactic. He had his heart on having a baby, and I could see how this was crushing him.  
  
“Well, the bad news is that you will need to cut back on the smoking and drinking,” I said, “I’ll have to quit altogether.”  
  
Chibs eyes snapped open. He narrowed his eyes in confusion.  
  
“What the bloody fuckin’ hell does that have to do with tryin’ to have a baby?” he asked.  
  
I cracked a smile.  
  
“The doctor said it’ll raise your sperm count,” I said.  
  
Chibs gave me a dead stare.  
  
“That was the bad news?” he asked lowly.  
  
I laughed.  
  
“Yes. Filip, everything’s fine. I’m 100% healthy and we can start trying in a few weeks,” I said.  
  
Chibs bit back a smile and grasped my face.  
  
“Don’t ya dare scare me like that, ya cheeky shite!” he growled playfully.  
  
I laughed and my mouth was claimed as his.  
  
“I’ll try to cut back. Can’t promise ya anythin’,” he said, grinning.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Didn’t seem to have a problem the first time,” I said.  
  
Chibs laughed.  
  
“Aye. ‘Cause I’m such a stud,” he said cockily.  
  
I burst out laughing as he pulled me in by the hips.  
  
“Oh, please!” I laughed.  
  
Chibs smiled and touched his forehead to mine.  
  
“I love ya, sweetheart.”  
  
I sighed and pulled him into a hug, wanting to hold him and seeking warmth from the sudden rush of cold air that swirled around us. Chibs chuckled and held me tightly. Fall was coming.  
  
“I love you, too, Filip,” I said softly.


	53. Tha Gaol Agam Ort

It was not the same. Not the same rush as before. It was rougher, too. However, somehow, it was ten times more powerful, and soon became a rush when I left the Dyna in the dust. I had never put the Sportster through its paces, and I was thoroughly impressed when I roared by Chibs and took the lead after he had shown his ass and blew dust in my face at the start. The Dyna had more power, if just a little, and speeding was nothing new to either of us, but he had never tackled the machines I had ridden and driven, and by his yell when I zipped passed him, I knew I had the upper hand.  
It took a few weeks before I came up with a new challenge. Since the last little challenge at the cabin, we had been working diligently to secure everything and keep our eyes and ears open for L or the rogue Indian Hills, which had been confirmed thanks to our kind and ever loyal brothers in our Reno charter. Chibs had called in a favor, and Hench, their President, was more than happy to scope out things for us, as he had been having issues with Gaines for the past few months. Rane also made a call to the Nomads, who now were flocking around the area like crows over carrion, just waiting for someone to screw up. Hench and a few of his guys had staked out in Indian Hills and took a few pictures of Gaines with L in shady places, such as bars and old motels. We received a yellow envelope from one of the patrolling Nomads passing through Charming. He had found Tig at the same gas station I had been kidnapped at, and Tig immediately called an emergency meeting at the clubhouse.  
I followed my brothers and Chibs into chapel, and none of us had a chance to sit down when Tig squeezed in and held the envelope up. Chibs narrowed his eyes, squinting to try and read the penned letters.  
  
“What is that?” he asked.  
  
Tig grinned and held the envelope up.  
  
“Reno, brother,” he replied.  
  
Chibs reached into his pocket for his reading glasses before grabbing a cigarette and placing it between his lips.  
  
“Open that shit up,” he ordered as he felt his pockets for his Zippo.  
  
We gathered around Chibs as Tig opened the envelope and pulled out a stack of 8x10 prints, the first with a small Post-It stuck to it. He handed the photos to Chibs, who peeled the note away.  
  
“ _’All taken in Indian Hills. Confirmation of your suspicions. Date and time tagged in the corner.’_ ,” he read around the cig, then pulled it out of his mouth, “Signed ‘ _Hench_ ’.”  
  
“Holy shit,” Happy said.  
  
Chibs set the prints down and spread them across the table. All the shots were zoomed in, although taken with a very high quality camera, and every detail was clear. It was indeed L, and he and Gaines were in the majority of the pictures taken. Others were of L walking out of diners and motels, and one of his backside as he was gassing up a black van.  
  
“That motherfucker,” I growled.  
  
“Now if only we can get proof that Indian Hills killed Mickey,” Tig said.  
  
Chibs shook his head as he scanned the pictures.  
  
“May not need to,” he said, “L’s workin’ with Indian Hills. Soon enough, we’ll have evidence, but I know they killed him.”  
  
“They’ve stayed awfully quiet, though,” T.O. said.  
  
“They’re waiting,” Rat said.  
  
“Aye,” Chibs agreed, “They’re settin’ a trap.”  
  
I bit my bottom lip nervously.  
  
“So what happens when we don’t take the bait?” I asked.  
  
Chibs’ expression was bitter.  
  
“Then I’ll be expectin’ a desperate phone call,” he replied.  
  
“What now, brother?” Tig asked, “We may be safe, but Reno won’t be. Gaines finds out Reno is on to them, they’ll kill them, too.”  
  
Chibs stacked the photos, leaving the Post-It aside.  
  
“Rat, go get a piece of paper and find a new envelope that’ll fit these,” Chibs said.  
  
Rat nodded and turned away.  
  
“Tig, ya can call Reno and tell them they don’t have to get so close anymore, but I would like them to keep an eye out. Thank them, as well,” he continued.  
  
Tig nodded. Chibs slapped the photos on his palm and smiled.  
  
“Let’s mail these anonymously to our favorite sheriff,” he said.  
  
I smiled, and we all agreed before Chibs dismissed the emergency meeting.  
  
Rat returned from the garage office with the requested items, and Chibs put the photos inside before writing a quick note, leaving it unsigned. Satisfied, he folded the paper, placed it inside the envelope, and smiled at me.  
  
“We’re on the home stretch now, darlin’,” he said, then leaned over to kiss me.  
  
And that’s exactly what I was thinking when I turned the last corner on the track, my heart laughing, and the roar of Harley Davidson’s deafening.  
Tig was standing at the side of the track, finishing off a cigarette and holding up a bandana he had swiped off of my head, and flagging me in when I crossed the finish line just seconds before Chibs, not only winning the race, but a slave for a week. It wasn’t that Chibs wouldn’t do the things I asked regardless, but it was nice to ask for things just to tick him off and rile him up. He had won the last challenge, only taking advantage through sex and one night with a shoulder rub, which later turned into a very heated make-out session on the couch. After that, he forgot all about it. However, now that I had won, I had a list of things to do. Unfortunately, that meant he got to pick the next challenge.  
I slowed down and turned around to ride back up to Tig as Chibs followed.  
  
“How?” Chibs asked loudly.  
  
I parked beside Tig and removed my helmet. He praised me and kissed my forehead.  
  
“That’s what I’m talking about!” he said.  
  
Chibs pulled up beside me and killed the engine. Tig and I watched as he propped his hands on his thighs and stared at the tank of his bike in deep thought. He was silent, wracking his brain and shaking his head.  
  
“I don’t get it,” he finally breathed out, then looked up at me and gestured to the red machine between my legs, “How the hell did ya beat me? That thing has power, but not enough to overtake this! What’d ya put on that to make it faster?”  
  
I laughed.  
  
“Are you accusing me of cheating, my dear Filip?” I quipped.  
  
Chibs scoffed and I grinned.  
  
“Because, I thought you might have been letting me win,” I continued.  
  
He just shook his head.  
  
“No! I was actually tryin’ to beat ya! How the hell did ya do that?” he asked.  
  
I smiled at him.  
  
“I’ll tell you a secret, sweetheart,” I said, then leaned over and whispered, “I’m just that good!”  
  
Chibs grinned and shook his head. I laughed at him.  
  
“Hell yeah, baby girl! High-five!” Tig exclaimed.  
  
I high-fived him and turned back to Chibs.  
  
“Fine. Ya one this time,” he said, then leaned over and arched his eyebrow, “but I get to pick the next challenge.”  
  
“I know, but for now, you’re my slave!” I said.  
  
Chibs smiled and rolled his eyes. Tig shuddered.  
  
“I don’t even wanna know!” he exclaimed.  
  
Chibs and I looked up at him.  
  
“Let’s just get the hell outta here,” Tig continued, “It’s getting late. I’m going to head back home and Venus and I are going to drive out to the cabin.”  
  
“Ya bringin’ the drinks?” Chibs asked.  
  
Tig nodded.  
  
“We need to go trade out for the car and get the food up there,” I told Chibs.  
  
He nodded.  
  
“Blankets, too. It’s gonna get cold tonight,” he said.  
  
I nodded in agreement. Tig folded the bandana he had used as a flag and tied it back around my head.  
  
“There ya go, darlin’,” he said.  
  
Chibs shifted and started his bike.  
  
“C’mon, Tiggy. Cal and I’ll escort ya back home,” he said.  
  
Tig nodded, and I started my own bike before waiting on Tig.  
  
With Halloween coming up, and the promise of safety from our sister charters and even the law, the club had gotten a bad case of Fall fever. Some of the guys had taken up going fishing every morning, Venus, Brooke and I had been craving caramel, apple, and pumpkin everything, and all of us wanted to go camping. We could not, unfortunately, but we could spend an evening at the cabin, eating barbecue and s’mores with apple cider, drinking, and telling ghosts stories around the campfire. It was a get-away everyone had been looking forward to for two weeks, and now that it was here, we were all too ready to head out.  
Chibs and I took Tig home and said goodbye before riding outside of Charming on the way home. When we arrived, we traded the bikes for the Challenger, packed all of the food in the trunk, and loaded Harley before Chibs took the wheel and I shotgun. As Chibs was buckling up, he glanced in the back to see the dog stretched out, a king among dogs on his royal throne.  
  
“That damn dog is gonna outgrow the backseat,” Chibs said.  
  
I smiled and looked back to see Harley, who was big enough now to fill up the back bench, stretched out comfortably in the seat he had spent nearly every week traveling in. That was his space, and he knew it.  
  
“He’s all legs,” I commented.  
  
Chibs smiled and started the car. I glanced over him and smiled to myself. All legs like his daddy…  
  
During the ride to the cabin, though quiet, we hummed with excitement, and once we arrived, we quickly settled and had what need to be refrigerated in the fridge, paper plates, plastic silverware and red Solo cups set out, and everything else ready to go. In fact, we had it done so fast, we still had half an hour before anyone else arrived.  
I put my hands on my hips and scoped out the kitchen before deciding that there was nothing more to do.  
  
“What now?” I asked.  
  
Chibs shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack. Harley had climbed into his favorite chair and was out.  
  
“Let’s take a walk. Go explorin’,” Chibs said with a shrug.  
  
I smiled, liking the sound of that.  
  
“Right behind you, baby,” I replied.  
  
Chibs smiled warmly and held his hand out. I took it and walked out the door with him. I linked my arm with his as we crossed the porch and walked across the gravel to a trail at the tree line. We carefully treaded, keeping an eye out for protruding roots and loose rocks. We talked idly, looking around and taking note of the changing leaf colors.  
  
“I hate that we can’t come down here more often. I used to love comin’ out here,” Chibs said.  
  
I looked up from my boots to his face as he looked around in wonder.  
  
“Go hiking a lot?” I asked.  
  
He smiled, his dimples deepening and, to my surprise, his cheeks tinging red.  
  
“No. Jackie Boy, Ope and I would come down here, pick a tree, and see how high we could climb. Jackie had the advantage of bein’ younger, and Opie had the advantage of height, but I always won.”  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Chibs of the Jungle,” I said teasingly.  
  
He laughed.  
  
“Fuckin’ love climbin’ trees,” he said.  
  
I laughed and held his arm tighter as we walked off of the trail to a clear spot overlooking the lake. We had walked about a quarter mile away from where we had laid Juice to rest, and I had yet to see this side of the lake. Where we had taken Juice home, the lake splashed up the bank. Here, the bank was high, and even though there was an abrupt drop between the ground and the water, I spotted a worn area where deer, small animals, and I’m sure the boys had made a way to get in and out of the water. Perhaps to fish, and possibly swim.  
  
“Holy shit! It’s still here!” Chibs exclaimed.  
  
I looked up in surprise to see him jog over to a massive tree growing out of the bank, a thick rope with a knot near the bottom dangling over a big nail that had been pounded into the trunk, creating a place to hang the rope and keep it out of the way. Chibs pulled it off of the nail and wrapped his hands around it, pulling and testing to make sure the limb it was tied to was still sturdy. He grinned like a little boy with it did not break.  
  
“Ah hell yes!” he said excitedly.  
  
He twisted the rope, then suddenly, an idea flew into his head. I could see it in his eyes. Some devious plot was brewing in his wonderful mind, and I was afraid to ask.  
He looked up at me, gave me a cheesy grin, then puffed his chest out, proud of himself.  
  
“New challenge,” he announced.  
  
I felt my jaw drop and I squeaked.  
  
“What? Hell no! You have to serve your sentence!” I exclaimed.  
  
His smile did not falter.  
  
“Ah, come on, love!”  
  
I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him.  
  
“I challenge ya to swing into the water,” he said.  
  
I scoffed.  
  
“Are you kidding me right now?” I asked.  
  
The man fucking giggled!  
  
“You know that water’s gotta be cold as hell,” I went on.  
  
Chibs jutted his bottom lip out and shook his head.  
  
“Nah. It’s been warm today. It’ll be fine,” he said with a shrug.  
  
I just stared at him like he was crazy. It was true. For Fall, it had been almost hot. Warm enough to wear shorts and a tank top for sure, and even though it was getting late and the area we were standing in was shaded, it was still warm. Still, that water had to be ice cold.  
  
“You seriously want to jump in that water?” I asked him, “Are you crazy?”  
  
He grinned.  
  
“How about this?” he proposed, “I jump in and have to stay in for 30 seconds without any whinin’. If I make it, ya have to jump. If ya stay in for the same amount of time without complainin’, no one wins and I’m still your slave. However, if ya jump or whine, ya lose.”  
  
“That’s cheating, Filip. And if we both lose, what’s the point?” I asked.  
  
Chibs weighed the rope in his hands.  
  
“What’s the matter, love? Scared you’ll lose?” he challenged.  
  
I smirked, my competitive side emerging and screaming no. He knew that would get to me, but I didn’t let that stop me from suddenly wanting to win.  
  
“No,” I said, trying to sound confident.  
  
Chibs glanced up at the branch the rope was tied to and pulled it back. He was seriously thinking about doing this!  
  
“What are you going to do about your clothes?” I asked.  
  
His response was all too quick.  
  
“Strip,” he replied.  
  
My jaw dropped. I glanced back up the trail where I could just barely see the roof of the cabin.  
  
“We are not skinny-dipping when one of the guys could show up any minute!”  
  
Chibs eyes widened.  
  
“Jesus Christ, Callie girl! I wasn’t plannin’ on doin’ that! I was just gonna take my shirt and boots off. Jeans’ll air dry,” he said.  
  
I sighed in relief.  
  
“But if ya want…” he said with a wink.  
  
I narrowed my eyes, trying not to smile.  
  
“No!” I said sternly.  
  
Chibs laughed. I put my hands on my hips.  
  
“You in?” he asked.  
  
At that, I cracked a smile.  
  
“Yeah, I’m in,” I said.  
  
Besides, I wanted to see if he’d actually go through with it.  
  
“We have an extra change of clothes in the car, anyway,” I continued.  
  
Chibs eyebrows knitted together.  
  
“We brought a change of clothes?” he asked.  
  
I crossed my arms and stepped up to him.  
  
“I packed an emergency back a few weeks ago. Just in case we needed to make a quick get-away,” I replied.  
  
Chibs smiled and pulled me close.  
  
“That’s brilliant, baby,” he said.  
  
I smiled widely and received a soft kiss.  
  
“Or for emergency jungle swinging into the lake,” I said jokingly.  
  
Chibs just laughed.  
  
I stepped back and gestured to his ensemble, which was just dark blue jeans, his favorite riding boots, and an army green v-neck that showed a wedge of his million dollar bill tattoo through the collar.  
  
“Well, come on, then. Let’s see you strip,” I said.  
  
Chibs eyes darkened and he gave me a crooked smile. I stood back and enjoyed the show. He hung the rope on the nail in the tree trunk, then lifted one long leg to remove his boot and sock, then the same with the other. He pulled off all of his rings and beads before placing them inside his boot. He then pulled his shirt off, exposing his tattooed torso. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself in check. Hot damn!  
Chibs tossed his shirt on top of his boots and worked to pull his wallet out of his back pocket and unclip the chain ever so slowly. He knew all too well what he was doing, and even though I acted passive, my body was on fire. The summer had done his body wonders, as he was able to shed those last little pounds that he lost before the wedding, and put back on after eating hearty Scottish food for two weeks, then dropping it again. He looked amazing, and I hoped to hell he lost his own challenge, because as soon as he came running. I was shoving him back in and showing him what his little strip tease had caused.  
Chibs tossed his wallet and chain in the grass.  
  
“Where’s your phone, baby?” I asked.  
  
Chins looked up at me and patted his pockets, confirming that they were empty.  
  
“In my jacket in the cabin,” he said.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“‘Kay. Go for it, Tarzan,” I said playfully.  
  
Chibs laughed and pulled the rope back. He twisted it tight, then looked back at me. I hoped and prayed that the limb didn’t snap.  
  
“Don’t hurt yourself,” I warned.  
  
He smiled and glanced back at me.  
  
“I’ve done this a million times, darlin’. I got this,” he reassured me.  
  
I crossed my arms and watched on as his hands gripped the rough rope, his biceps protruding. He may be the tree climber, but I was going to climb him like a tree.  
Chibs backed up the incline with the rope in hand, then put a bare foot on the knot.  
  
“Oh, Jesus, it’s been a while,” he grunted.  
  
I smiled at that.  
  
Chibs scooted back as far as he possibly could, then perched himself on the knot and the rope launched him in an arc around the tree and high above the lake. He let out a shout of excitement and let go at the peak height over the water, falling and splashing into the water. I jogged up to the tree and caught the rope. Chibs emerged from the water and flung his hair out of his eyes.  
  
“Ah, mother of Christ!” he shouted.  
  
I giggled.  
  
“Is it cold?” I asked.  
  
He swam a little bit closer and shook his head.  
  
“Not really,” he said.  
  
I just smiled to myself.  
  
“Bullshit!”  
  
“No, really,” he said, then leaned backwards and floated, “It’s actually quite refreshin’.”  
  
I snorted. He was going to snap his dick off.  
  
“Okay, then your 30 seconds starts now,” I said.  
  
Chibs glared up me.  
  
“Bullshit! My 30 seconds started ten seconds ago!” he barked.  
  
I laughed and compromised, counting down from 25 in my head. Chibs floated and swam around, his body adjusted to the temperature. Unfortunately for me, he breezed through his time limit. So now, I had to make it 30 seconds or risk losing my slave. Just half a minute in icy cold mountain lake water. Easy, right?  
  
“Your turn, lovely,” he said.  
  
I sighed and reached into my pocket for my cell phone, then pulled my boots and socks off, stuffed my phone into a sock and those into a boot. I noticed Chibs eyes glaze over with lust as he watched me begin to unzip my hoodie and strip off my t-shirt. I refused to remove my bra or jeans, but I removed my rings and my crow and rose necklace and put them inside my boot with my phone. After checking my pockets to make sure they were empty, I took the rope and twisted it.  
  
“Pull back all the way, darlin’,” he reminded me.  
  
I did as instructed, and pulled until the limb above was left with no give. I then lifted a leg and placed my foot on the knot, finding it a lot harder to do than Chibs had led me to belief.  
  
“Jump on it,” he said.  
  
I gripped the old rope for dear life with my hands and toes and went for it. The air suddenly rushed around me as the ground below fell away. I held on as I reached the highest point, and let go with a small scream. I proceeded to hit the water hard, and next to the pain of the collision came the muscle locking torture of icy cold water.  
I scrambled to surface and emerged with a sharp intake of air. The water here was deep, and I had to keep kicking my legs to stay afloat.  
  
“Holy hell!” I breathed out.  
  
I rubbed my eyes free of water and opened them to see Chibs floating towards me, grinning like an idiot.  
  
“Is it too cold for ya?” he asked.  
  
I held my jaw tightly closed to keep my teeth from chattering.  
  
“No,” I said stubbornly.  
  
He just laughed. I knew it was probably evident I was freezing for the goosebumps on my skin. He moved up to me and locked his arms around my waist. I stared at him in surprise.  
  
“Thirty seconds, love. Ya can’t leave for thirty seconds,” he said.  
  
And with that, I was locked in. There was no form of escape that didn’t require getting kneed in the crotch or gouged in the eye. Holding me there meant that neither of us won, and I suddenly understood his little game. It wasn’t about one of us obtaining or losing our personal servants for a week. It was about irritating the hell out of me. There was no way he was not going to let himself have a night of fun, and misbehaving and getting on my last nerve was just one of those things. I was so getting him back for this.  
  
“Chibs! Come on!” I pleaded.  
  
“Nah-ah, love. No whinin’,” he said teasingly, this big toothy grin on his face.  
  
I huffed and let my guard down, ceasing my futile attempts to push away from him and holding his shoulders.  
  
“God, who can you stand it?” I asked.  
  
Chibs smirked.  
  
“I’m from a place where its possible to have all four seasons in one day. I’m highly adaptable,” he said.  
  
I gave in and smiled.  
  
“My rough and rugged Scotsman,” I said endearingly.  
  
Chibs smiled shyly. I moved my leg to try and part from him, as I knew my 30 seconds was almost up, but when I tried to feel for the bottom, I felt nothing but a watery abyss, and quickly held fast to Chibs. He just smiled and locked an arm around my waist. He looked proud of himself, loving that I was dependent on him to keep from drowning. He was in the hero position, and he was eating it up.  
  
“God! Are you standing?” I asked when I noticed he wasn’t bobbing up and down.  
  
He smiled and nodded. I growled and put my arms around his neck.  
  
“I hate tall people,” I grumbled like a tired child.  
  
He chuckled and hugged me. The long-legged bastard…  
  
“If it’s any consolation,” he said, “I’m standin’ on the balls of my feet.”  
  
I raised my head to look at him, what little anger I had dissolving. I couldn’t stay mad at him. I loved him too much. However, despite the frigid cold temperatures, I felt flames licking my body once more. Being this close to him half naked in the water would have done it for me anyway, but the setting sun hit his eyes, highlighting the reddish tones in his irises, his long hair, being weighed down by the water, just barely touched his shoulders. A thought passed through my mind that I would not dare vocalize, for the last thing he needed was an ego boost. My favorite color on him quickly went from black to wet.  
I smiled at him and cupped his cheeks.  
  
“You’re a shithead,” I said lovingly.  
  
Chibs grinned and I moved in to kiss him. I felt his lips turn up in a smile and he held me tighter. He moved a hand out of the water and grasped the side of my face, fingers locking into my wet hair. He tilted his head and kissed along my jawline, his scratchy facial hair tickling me. I moved my hands to hold his shoulders and tilted my head away as he lightly bit down on my neck. I gasped and closed my eyes. He removed his teeth and kissed the spot he bit, causing the fire he had ignited inside me to go to war with the icy water chilling my skin.  
  
“I better stop, or I’ll be startin’ somethin’ I can’t finish,” he said.  
  
He raised his head and pressed soft kiss to my lips. I smiled and wrapped my arms around his neck. As I did, I noticed just how cold his skin was as the undersides of my upper arms rested on his shoulders.  
  
“Yeah, we should go dry off. You’re ice cold,” I said, running my hands down his shoulders.  
  
He smiled and shrugged.  
  
“I’m fine,” he said stubbornly.  
  
I smiled and butted his forehead.  
  
“Jus’ wait ’til I get ya home, though,” he said lowly.  
  
I laughed and lightly splashed him, causing him to break away from me and laugh as he wiped the water from his eyes.  
  
“Come on. Let’s head back up to the cabin.”  
  
Chibs reluctantly agreed, and swam back up to the bank with me. I climbed up the worn trail first, and walked over to our clothes. As I approached the piles of shirts and boots, I turned to see Chibs just now walking on to land, entire body drenched, and jeans clinging to him. My eyes widened. What a shame to make him change into something dry…  
  
That’s when a truly evil, yet genius plan flew into my mind. I looked down at our clothes, then quickly picked all of them up and threw his t-shirt on. Chibs stopped and stared at me. He could see my idea from a mile away.  
  
“What are ya doin’?” he asked in an accusing tone.  
  
I grinned and began to back up, holding his clothes hostage.  
  
“Callie,” he said strictly, “Bring me my clothes. I’m freezing!”  
  
I laughed and shook my head defiantly. Chibs’ eyes darkened and narrowed—a look that could kill had he not been smiling.  
  
“You’re askin’ for it, love,” he said lowly.  
  
I snorted.  
  
“ _You’re_  asking for it. Standing there half naked and dripping wet,” I growled, “Fucking sexy bastard!”  
  
Chibs gave me a predatory grin and snapped his teeth.  
  
Up the trail, we heard the crackling of tires against the gravel. Chibs and I looked up the trail. Someone was here. We stood absolutely still and listened as the engine died and the doors opened. I heard Tig’s voice, and knew that the alcohol had arrived. I turned back to Chibs and gave him a shit-eating grin.  
  
“Don’t ya even think about it! Bring me my clothes!” he ordered.  
  
“Come catch me, big boy,” I taunted.  
  
Chibs launched for me, and I squealed and tore back up the trail.  
  
“Ya little shite!” Chibs barked.  
  
I pushed my legs as hard and as fast I could, trying to outrun Chibs. I should have known better than to challenge him to a race on foot, as his legs were longer, stronger, and I had an incline to my disadvantage. However, the cold water had, like I said, constricted Chibs’ jeans, and even though I was in the same boat, I managed to beat him up the trail and ran around to the front of the cabin.  
  
“Callie!” Chibs shouted.  
  
I ran around the corner and was forced to slow down, for not only was a barefoot and the ground was covered in sharp gravel, but I nearly ran straight into Venus’ car. Tig was just hefting a cooler out of the trunk and Venus was shutting the driver’s side door.  
  
“Hey,” I said casually, and carefully walked across the gravel.  
  
Tig stared at me.  
  
“What are you doing wearing Chibby’s shirt?” he asked.  
  
Venus shut the car door and marched up to me.  
  
“Your hair is soaking wet, sugar,” she said.  
  
Chibs emerged from around the corner and stopped. I bit my lip to keep from laughing.  
  
“Good Lord, Filip!” Venus breathed out.  
  
Chibs’ cheeks and neck turned red.  
  
“Jesus! I don’t even wanna know!” Tig said, and resumed getting the cooler and hauling it up to the porch, but it only took him about 20 seconds before he couldn’t stand it, “What the hell were you two doing?”  
  
Chibs shrugged.  
  
“Not skinny-dippin’, tha’s for sure!” he replied.  
  
Tig smiled and shook his head.  
  
“I’m going to go get the car keys,” I announced, leaving Chibs outside with Tig while Venus and I entered the cabin.  
  
When I returned, Chibs was leaning against the trunk of the Challenger while Tig was letting Bonnie go do her business in the grass. I pressed the button on the remote to unlock the car and opening the front door to pop the trunk. When I turned around, Chibs rushed me, pinning me between his arms and the car, and his lips crashed against mine.  
  
“I’m gonna get ya for that one, lovely,” he said lowly.  
  
I smirked.  
  
“We’ll see,” I said, then pecked his lips and turned away.  
  
He snorted.  
  
“Well, can I at least have my shirt back?” he asked.  
  
I just laughed.  
  
***  
  
I had heard that Scots were natural born storytellers. Whether that was a myth or a stereotype was uncertain. However, if that was true, then Tig must have had some Scottish in him. Either that, or he was a natural born entertainer, because after a few drinks, he had all of us captivated and sore from laughing so hard. Chibs, though had not had as much to drink, was just as hilarious.  
Our little camp-out was not huge. The club, their Old Ladies, our dogs, and little Felix. We pigged out and after s’mores, gathered around the campfire, and listened to Tig and Chibs’ ghost stories. Some were simply entertaining, some funny, but a lot of Tig’s were just fucked up. Chibs and I were perched on the picnic table, wrapped up in a heavy blanket to block out the cold wind as we listened to Tig try to scare us. I was backed in between Chibs’ legs, my back and head resting against his chest as his arms locked securely around my midsection.  
  
“Since the wife escaped prison, no saw her again, but they believe she carries the head of her dead husband in her bowling bag,” he said lowly.  
  
Venus rolled her eyes.  
  
“Is this a true story, Alexander?” she asked.  
  
Tig’s eyes widened.  
  
“You think I’m making this shit up?” he exclaimed.  
  
“Oh, it’s real,” Happy said, “Happened right outside of Modesto.”  
  
Venus paled. I could see Hap’s eyes glitter. He was fucking with her.  
  
“Man, I thought that happened up in Tacoma?” T.O. asked.  
  
Rane’s Old Lady, Trisha, chuckled.  
  
“Yeah. Back in the 70’s,” she said.  
  
I smiled and looked up at Chibs.  
  
“Did that really happen?” I asked.  
  
Chibs smiled.  
  
“He tells that one every year. Happened back in the 70’s. She’s long dead now,” he said.  
  
“Unless she’s like, some 200 year old demon lady,” Rat said.  
  
I laughed and sat up. Chibs whimpered.  
  
“Where ya goin’?” he asked.  
  
I turned and placed my feet on the bench below.  
  
“Gotta pee. You need anything while I’m inside?” I asked.  
  
Chibs smiled softly.  
  
“No, sweetheart,” he replied, “But hurry back.”  
  
I laughed.  
  
“I will,” I assured him, and slid out from under the blanket and walked back up to the side door that led into the kitchen.  
  
Inside was quiet, the trash bags from dinner sitting under the table ready to be taken to a dumpster. I shut the door behind me and saw Brooke walk in with Felix, patting his bottom and looking miserable.  
  
“Hey,” I said.  
  
“Hey, Cal. You wouldn’t happen to have any Advil or anything, would you?” she asked.  
  
“I can check. I think I have some Excedrin,” I replied.  
  
Brooke walked over to the freezer and grabbed a couple of ice cubes, rubbing them on her forehead.  
  
“That’ll work. I can’t shake this headache,” she said.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“I’ll go check. If not, Chibs might have some Aspirin hidden around here somewhere,” I said.  
  
I walked into the living room and picked up my back, which was hidden under my cut on the couch. I opened it up and rifled through my things before finding a bottle of painkillers. I clutched them and put my bag back under my cut before returning to the kitchen. Brooke was at the counter preparing a bottle for the baby.  
  
“Here, Brooke,” I said.  
  
She looked up to see the bottle and sighed in relief.  
  
“Thank-you, Callie. That smoke just made my head explode,” she said.  
  
I smiled sympathetically. Felix fisted her hoodie sleeve and a pissed look swept over his face before he began to cry.  
  
“Oh, don’t start, little man. I’m getting it,” Brooke said to him.  
  
Felix just cried in response. Brooke huffed and looked up at me.  
  
“He’s just hungry,” she said tiredly.  
  
I put my hand on the counter and shifted my weight to one foot as I watched Felix cry.  
  
“Need a break? I can feed him for you. Let you rest your head until the pills kick in,” I offered.  
  
I wasn’t sure what made me ask. I had fed him before, but only for a minute, and I knew I would need the practice. It had been a few weeks since I had quit taking the pill, and I had yet to change my mind.  
Brooke’s eyes widened.  
  
“Oh, would you? I mean, if it’s not a problem. I don’t know how much longer I can take the room spinning,” she said.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“Sure. Just let me go to the bathroom first,” I said.  
  
She nodded and thanked me. I walked to the bathroom and quickly did my business before washing my hands and returning to the kitchen. Brooke passed my nephew to me and tossed a towel over my shoulder.  
  
“Hold him up kind of high. Keep the bottle tilted up where he can get the milk. Go slow, too,” she instructed.  
  
I held him carefully to my chest and she passed me the bottle.  
  
“Thank-you, Callie. I’m going to lay down in the bedroom for a little while. Call me if you need me,” she said.  
  
I nodded and followed her into the living room. I sat with Felix on the couch and held him up higher than usual.  
  
“Now, don’t you dare puke on me, dude,” I said.  
  
Felix was notorious for spit-up. His little tummy was not fully with it, and if you didn’t take it slow with him, or held him up just right, he would blow like a geyser. I had learned that the hard way. Chibs had been feeding him, taking him off Rat’s hands while he went to help with a bike. I had offered to feed him to see if could do it, and had done fine until he finished. Tig was standing behind the bar having a drink, and I had been sitting in front of him with Felix when his little eyes grew large and he blew all over my shirt. That had been it for me. I quickly passed him back to Chibs. Tig gagged and immediately ran into the office and puked in a trashcan. I made it to the kitchen sink and dry-heaved in it, Chibs’ dying of laughter. I knew that unless I grew a pair, Chibs would be in charge of all things vomit when we had kids. And God forbid he got sick with some stomach bug. He’d be on his own.  
I placed the bottle in Felix’s mouth and his crying ceased. He eagerly sucked on the bottle, and I had to pull it away.  
  
“You’re just wanting to puke on Aunt Callie. That’s your whole plan, isn’t it?” I asked.  
  
Felix just stared at me. I smiled and gave him the bottle back. He drank it slower this time. I leaned back and relaxed. I had to admit, once he started and ceased the crying, it was kind of nice. This small, soft, warm thing making little noises. Being cute for a brief moment. He was still a little temperamental, but he was developing his personality, becoming as sweet as his parents were. It made me all the more eager to try again.  
  
“Ya look good with that wee bairn in your arms.”  
  
I looked up to see Chibs stepping into the living room.  
  
“Jesus, Filip! I didn’t even hear you come in,” I said.  
  
He smiled.  
  
“Sorry. Got sick of Hap and Tiggy arguin’ over whose story to tell next,” he said, “Wondered what was keepin’ ya.”  
  
I smiled and looked back down at Felix.  
  
“Relieving Brooke for a while. Her head was killing her,” I replied.  
  
Chibs smiled warmly and sat down beside me. Felix let go of the bottle.  
  
“You done?” I asked him softly.  
  
Chibs held his hand out and I gave him to bottle before wrapping my arms around my nephew.  
  
“You’re a natural,” he said lowly.  
  
I looked up at him and smiled shyly. Chibs leaned to the side and laid his head on my shoulder.  
  
“Can we start tryin’ yet?” he asked hopefully.  
  
I smiled down at him.  
  
“Impatient?” I asked.  
  
He smiled meekly.  
  
“It’s been a few weeks,” he said with a pout.  
  
I smiled and reached up to stroke his cheek.  
  
“Soon, baby.”  
  
He smiled, satisfied with that, and looked down at his nephew and stroked the top of his head. He was becoming impatient, and to be honest, we probably could already start. However, I wanted to wait until I felt completely ready. Now that I was, I too was impatient. I couldn’t wait to start expanding our family, but also couldn’t wait to see Chibs be a dad.  
  
***  
  
It took a lot to wake me out of a deep sleep. Chibs’ shuffling around or moving on the bed did nothing, nor did the sound of closing doors, banging around in the kitchen, bathroom, or that one creaky floorboard in the middle of the hall. Nothing…except the strong urge to go to the bathroom.  
When I rolled over onto my back, I could feel it. I groaned and stretched around the ache in my abdomen, more or less brought on by the sound of hissing water next door. I didn’t realize it until I turned my head to see Chibs’ side empty, and knew he had hopped into the shower. I groaned, wiped my eyes clear of sleep, and slowly stood up. Normally, I would wait until he was finished, although he had come in plenty of times while I was showering. I didn’t like interrupting, but this could not wait.  
I padded down the hall to the bathroom door and quickly knocked, dancing on the balls of my feet as I did.  
  
“Filip?” I asked loudly so he could hear.  
  
“It’s unlocked, sweetheart!”  
  
I turned the doorknob and shot into the humid room, swiping the door shut with my eyes set on the toilet. Chibs, who was concealed before the shower curtain, was laughing.  
  
“Mornin’, love,” he said.  
  
I sat down and did my business, sighing in relief and my bladder rejoicing.  
  
“Morning,” I sighed.  
  
I looked up at the shower, and could just see a blurred blob of him behind the curtain. I bit my lip as I took some toilet paper from the roll. I was tempted to jump in there with him.  
After finishing my business, I went to wash my hands. Inside the shower, I heard a loud thump, followed my Chibs’ amusing reaction.  
  
“Fuckin’ hell!” he barked.  
  
I looked up at the mirror over the sink just in time to see him bend over to pick up what I assumed was a shampoo bottle, his ass rubbing against the curtain, giving me a clear view. I smirked as I dried my hands. His ass in tight, wet jeans had nothing on it bare. The man’s posterior, as well as the rest of him, had been on my mind all night since we had taken our little dip in the lake. When we returned home, we had been too tired to take advantage of the rest of the night, but that did not keep my mind from wandering. His bright smile and that endless laugh. His chest and arm tattoos. The way his jeans hugged his hips. Running my fingers through locks of brown and silver. Feeling the muscles in his back and arms. Kissing his scarred neck. Imagining the feeling of his rough fingers over my skin, his bare torso above mine, gruff voice in my ear.  
I took a deep breath and pulled myself from my reverie as an aching need began to build. It was almost as bad as a cigarette craving.  
  
“Likin’ what ya see, Callie girl?”  
  
I jumped and looked up to see Chibs’ wet head poking out of the shower curtain. I smiled and turned around.  
  
“Oh, don’t get me started,” I said.  
  
Chibs grinned, shut off the water, and exited the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist.  
Sweet Jesus!  
  
“Why not?” he asked, taking my chin between his fingers and kissing me, taking my breath away.  
  
I cupped his jaw and deepened the kiss. He moaned softly and backed me into the counter. Our lips parted and we explored each other’s mouths. Chibs gripped my hips and lifted me up on the counter edge, and I put my hands around his neck.  
  
“God, Callie,” he breathed out.  
  
I cradled the back of his head and kissed down his cheek and to his ear.  
  
“That’s why,” I said breathlessly.  
  
He let out a throaty growl.  
  
“Ya little minx,” he said gruffly, “If we didn’t have church, I’d take ya right here on this counter.”  
  
I laughed and lightly nipped his earlobe.  
  
“Can’t we just skip it?” I asked, knowing well that was never going to happen.  
  
“As much as I would love to, darlin’, I think we’ll have to take wait ’til later,” he said.  
  
I playfully pouted. He laughed and kissed me.  
  
“As soon as we get home,” he said.  
  
I smiled.  
  
“I’m holding you to that,” I said.  
  
He laughed and kissed me once more before we parted. I left the bathroom to let him dry off and get dressed, damning him for leaving me worked up. As soon as we returned, he was in for it.  
  
***  
  
It wasn’t until the mid-afternoon before we returned home. I had had a hard time focusing on anything, no thanks to Chibs. I felt anxious and impatient, and every little thing he did had my body on fire. I tried to distract myself. Actually listen to what the guys had to say at church. Watch the road instead of how long Chibs legs looked over the Dyna. How badly I wanted to ride with him, but the Dyna didn’t have a pillion and the Glide was at home. I felt like I had our wedding night in Scotland. Actually, this was almost like the insatiable desire I felt back at The Quiet Spot, which, although really did not start the shitstorm we currently found ourselves in, felt like the situation that had triggered everything. My mind still ran back to it. The hot metal on my back. Our voices echoing across the water. My heart was racing now like it had then, and after what happened in the bathroom this morning, I was simmering. It was like back at the rally, after I attacked Gaines, and Chibs had me pinned against the sheet metal of the storage building. If that memory alone did not leave me hot and bothered, remembering making out with my Old Man in the dark on top of his Harley did. I often daydreamed about him like that all the time. However, in the back of my mind, I knew my mind was in the gutter for a reason. Our wait was over.  
That made me all the more nervous. Excited, but nervous. This would change everything. This was our future, and I was ready. I did not dare think about the long-haul. That would have me back on the pill for sure. No, I was thinking in baby steps, and each little thing that could happen. Of course, anything bad could happen in a flash. That came with it. My mind was on the good things. The actions that would determine our future. Surprising him with the test. His reactions were probably what I anticipated the most. Since we baby-sat Thomas for an afternoon, I imagined how he would be with ours, and what the baby would look like. All these things played alongside my simmering hormones, and I knew it was time.  
When we returned home, I was ready to pounce when Chibs’ cell phone rang with a call from Reno. I was forced to impatiently wait, and what I assumed would be a quick call turned into an hour. I decided to give up the idea of immediately hitting the sheets and took Harley out to play. He had been dying to go out and play with his squeaky pig, and I took him out to the carport and tossed the toy with him. I leaned my backside against the trunk of the Challenger and through the toy down the driveway, where it landed in the gravel with a squeak. As Harley charged for it, I absently looked around, my eyes landing on the Dyna parked beside the Sportster. My mind immediately went into gutter mode once more, and I suddenly had an idea. A stupid idea if anyone came up the driveway, but a clever one all the same.  
Heart pounding with excitement, I called the dog back and coaxed him back inside the house with his toy. I through it down the hall and Harley ran for it and took it to the living room. I softly closed the door and tip-toed down the hall to the kitchen, where I could hear Chibs’ voice. When I peaked inside, I spotted him on the back porch, still on the phone, burning a cigarette to ash. I smirked and put my plan into action.  
I slipped down to the foyer and pilfered through the coat rack before I found his cut. I snatched it and crept back to the side door. I placed the cut in the floor, then pulled my t-shirt over my head, unclasped my bra, then shoved my jeans to the floor, leaving myself in only my panties and boots. Then, I tossed the heavy leather over my shoulders, which swallowed me, and pulled it around me to conceal my chest before stepping back outside, leaving the door ajar. It was chilly out today, but if my plan worked, that wouldn’t matter. Things would warm up soon enough.  
I walked over to the Dyna and mounted it backwards. I then leaned back against the gas tank and propped my feet on the back fender. Once situated, displayed right in the doorway, I was ready. Luckily, I could hear him reenter the kitchen with the thumping of the sliding glass door.  
  
“Callie?” he called.  
  
My heart leapt into my throat.  
  
“Out here!” I called.  
  
Chibs’ footfalls grew louder, and I heard him trip and suddenly stop.  
  
“What the…?” he asked quietly.  
  
The door then swung open, and I grinned. Chibs face fell and his eyes grew impossibly huge.  
  
“The wait is over, sweet boy,” I said.  
  
A sly smile crossed his lips, and he stepped out of the house and down the steps.  
  
“As if ya didn’t look sexy enough on that bike,” he said lowly.  
  
I smiled and sat up.  
  
“No one looks sexier than you on this beast,” I said.  
  
Chibs eyes darkened. I grinned and patted the leather. He shot over to me like a rocket and mounted facing me.  
  
“Time’s up?” he asked hopefully.  
  
I smiled and nodded.  
  
“And ya thought this would be a good spot?” he asked.  
  
I just nodded. He growled.  
  
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he said gruffly.  
  
He then locked his lips to mine and I grasped his arms. The kiss was rough, yet fiercely passionate. His hands reached inside the cut and cupped my breasts. I gasped softly as he teased me with the pads of his thumbs and gently leaned me back against the gas tank. He sunk his teeth into my neck. I whimpered and held his shoulders tightly. He raised up, breathing heavy, and in one swift motion, ripped the panties. That only lit me on fire, and I shot up to grasp his t-shirt and yank it over his head. He ducked out of it and violently threw it to the concrete before grasping my hips while I blindly worked to unbuckle his belt. At the instance of the SAMCRO buckle coming loose, Chibs pushed me back against the tank and pulled my legs up, locking them around his waist and pushing himself between my thighs. I held his arms for balance. He held my side and the handlebar, and eased himself in.  
I think I could have tumbled over the edge from that alone. That deep ache finally being fulfilled. I let out a strangled moan, my voice echoing off the sheet metal roof of the carport. I clamped around him instantly.  
  
“Jesus, love. Wanted me that bad?” he grunted out.  
  
I put my hands on his chest and began to explore his skin with my lips.  
  
“Just thinking about…what…happened at the…lake yesterday…You drive me fucking nuts,” I said between kisses, giving extra attention any scars I ran across, “Couldn’t stand it any longer.”  
  
Chibs chuckled and coaxed my face back up, making me look at him.  
  
“Ya got my attention, sweetheart,” he said, then placed a warm kiss to my lips.  
  
I melted into the leather on my back and with slight encouragement, he began to move within me. I put up little resistance, my body on 11 since this morning. He moaned softly and moved with ease. He ducked his head down, pushed the leather aside to expose my chest. He slid up slightly for better reach, and took my left breast into his mouth. I wrapped my arms around his head and cried out as a jolt of pleasure shot through my chest. I arched into him, receiving a low hum of approval.  
He raised up again, holding me flush to him, staring at me with a mischievous grin. He began to move his hips in slow circles. The change made me pulse around him.  
  
“Fuck, Filip!” I breathed out.  
  
His pace began to quicken, and all too soon, I felt the knot begin to tighten in my stomach. He inhaled sharply and kissed me, his tongue invading my mouth. I had no control over my emotions of the guttural growl that ripped its way up my throat. We were sprawled out across nearly 700 pounds of machine, and yet it rocked as if it were only 70. I prayed we didn’t somehow knock it over. Chibs clung to me, his boots scraping concrete as I dug my nails into his shoulders. He detached himself from my mouth and trailed impatient kisses across my cheek and ending in a long, warm kiss in the hollow below my ear, turning my spine to rubber. I whimpered softly as his teeth nipped my earlobe, and I could feel his hot breath ghost the outer shell.  
  
“Tell me what ya what, love,” he said lowly.  
  
He raised up and I looked up at him. Watching him move, trying so hard to keep a steady pace and not let his impatience overwhelm him. I felt short of breath as I watched him, fifty thoughts of filth running through my head. I wanted him to be rough as much as I wanted him to be gentle. I wanted to take advantage of my week-long slave and tease as much as I wanted to let him be tender and drown in his affections. I only had one answer for him.  
  
“You,” I breathed out, squeezing my eyes shut as the knot tightened more.  
  
He ran his hands up my stomach, and my hand almost automatically flew out and I placed a palm on his chest. Just being touched was enough to bring me impossibly close, his hands moving like the fire building inside almost too much.  
  
“Filip, please,” I pleaded.  
  
That was all he needed, and pinned me beneath him. His thrusts became increasingly shorter. I grasped his waist, clawing his hipbones and making him groan. His long hair fell around his face, his expression a mixture of determination and ecstasy. His thrusts were making me lose all sense of reality as I felt bursts of pleasure with each stroke. My pleasure began to build, and I could not contain the desperate moans that came out of my mouth. My legs began to twitch with the impending explosion.  
  
“Don’t you dare stop,” I breathed out.  
  
He grinned.  
  
“Wouldn’t…dream of it, my love,” he managed to get out.  
  
With that, he moved with reckless abandon. The knot burst and my legs shook erratically around him as I climaxed. I cried out for the whole world to hear, my own voice coming back as an echo.  
  
“Filip, Filip, Filip! Shit!” I cried.  
  
Wave upon wave doubled in intensity, and I clamped around him so hard that he was locked in place. He shuddered and moaned loudly.  
  
“Callie!” he hissed, then jolted as he climaxed.  
  
His lips crashed against mine as we rode out the last of waves of pleasure. His shoulders were shaking, and despite the chilly temperatures, we were both overheated.  
  
“Holy shit,” I breathed out.  
  
He buried his face in my neck, trying to regain his strength again. I hugged him and kissed his shoulder.  
  
“You okay, sweetheart?” I asked.  
  
He sat up and inhaled deeply, then smiled.  
  
“Aye, but I ain’t done with ya, yet,” he said.  
  
My eyes widened in surprise. Shit.  
  
He scooped me up, keeping my legs locked around his waist as he managed to balance me and dismount the Dyna, leaving whatever discarded clothes behind as he carried me to the door.  
He blindly navigated down the halls, keeping us in a heated war of tongues and teeth as he maneuvered us to the bedroom and laid me down on the sheets. I threw his cut from my shoulders, draping it over the footboard. He looked a little disappointed to see it off. I just smiled innocently. He took a hold of my legs, starting at my thigh and stroking down to my boots, removing each slowly, causing me torture. He then removed the rest of his clothes and crawled over me. I smiled up at him, still not believing that this man could still make me a nervous mess. A good nervous mess, though.  
  
“What is this? Ensuring you knock me up?” I asked teasingly.  
  
Chibs’ expression softened, changing from that look of orneriness and lust to loving and warm. He took my hands and pulled me up. He sat on his knees and guided me onto his thighs.  
  
“I could go for two, three, or possibly four,” he said.  
  
I raised an eyebrow at him.  
  
“What? Rounds?” I asked.  
  
Chibs threw his head back and laughed.  
  
“No!” he replied, “Kids.”  
  
I laughed at that.  
  
“Nah, love. Rounds are infinite,” he said and winked.  
  
I blew my cheeks out, smiling and shaking my head.  
  
“Now you’re going to be the death of  _me_ ,” I said.  
  
Chibs chuckled and took my hands in his.  
  
“Four?” I asked in disbelief.  
  
He smiled shyly and shrugged.  
  
“Tha’s just me dreamin’,” he said.  
  
I smiled and squeezed his hands.  
  
“Let’s just go for one first,” I said.  
  
His smile lit up his face.  
  
“Aye,” he said softly, and kissed me, this time gently.  
  
I put my arms around his neck and guided him into me. I let out a shallow breath as I felt him fill me completely, penetrating me as deep as possible. I locked my eyes with his and began to move. I watched pleasure wash over his features and his eyelids flutter. I took his face in my hands and he smiled sweetly. I believe it dawned on us what we were doing—something beautiful. Something that would change our lives forever. We were creating something for a change, instead of meddling in destruction.  
I could see his spirit lift whenever something was created or fixed. Problems, alliances, the clubhouse and TM, watching Brooke and Rat get married, or own relationship blooming, and not to mention, watching Felix enter the world. Now it was our turn, and it felt right. More than right. Absolutely complete. My soul was joined with Chibs, and now we were completely blending ourselves—making something with half of me and half of him. A living capsule of each other that we would have endless amounts of love for. It was not just about expanding the SAMCRO family or providing heirs for the throne. It was finally completing a mission we had accidentally started. Creating a ground for the live wire that was our lives. Chibs had expressed how much love he could give unto a person. His heart was massive. I found that, even though I knew I could love deep, I discovered just how deep through Chibs. Infinite amounts.  
We had spent many hours and several sleepless nights discussing bringing kids into the world. Weighing the pros and cons. It was just as big a risk as a person entering and take on the responsibilities of SAMCRO. It could fry us. Cause us to fight. Shatter us if something terrible were to happen. We knew those risks—Chibs better than I. We accepted them, because those turmoils would not blow us apart. We had both admitted our love and devotion to each other time and time again. We were not trying for a baby for the sole reason of bringing new purpose to our lives, but I found it a pro. This was not for everyone, but I wanted that purpose. I had always been about family. That’s why I joined the club in the first place. Among the death and destruction, we were a fiercely loyal and loving family of misfits, and I loved all of my brothers as if they were blood. Loving a creature that was blood would only make me love it that much more. For Chibs, this meant everything to him. As much as I wanted it for me, I wanted to do this for him even more.  
I held Chibs’ hands and kissed his palms, his self-harm scars and the phoenix tattoo before holding him tightly and kissing the shallow scar on the left side of his face. I felt him relax beneath me and clutch my waist tight. I could feel him tensing, and I was just as close. I caressed his cheeks as I moved faster. He let his head fall to my shoulder and put his arms around my neck, kissing from the crook of my neck to the top of my arm. I felt white hot heat begin to pool in the pit of my stomach, and took his goatee to coax he head back up. He kissed me passionately, holding me in a death grip as he met my thrusts. I held the sides of his cheeks, my body beginning to shake. Our slow, sensual movements became fast and erratic, until Chibs held me fast to him, our moans getting lost in each others’ mouths as we peaked. I whimpered and tears brimmed my eyes, the intensity of this orgasm even stronger than the last. He growled out his pleasure, but neither of us parted until we came down again.  
I fell into him and tried to catch my breath, residual pulses from him causing me to twitch.  
  
“God,” I breathed out.  
  
He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me, his lips pressing into my shoulder.  
  
“Tha gaol agam ort,” he said softly.  
  
It took me a second to realize that he was speaking Gaelic.  
  
“What does that mean?” I asked.  
  
He raised his head and smiled softly.  
  
“I love you,” he replied.  
  
I smiled widely and quickly kissed him.  
  
“I love you, too, my King.”

 


	54. Tonight the World Dies

Chibs’ voice was a distant echo. Faint, almost as if I were underwater. So faint, in fact, that I thought I was dreaming. I passed it off for what I thought was once, but when his voice became louder and clearer, I realized that I was not dreaming, and knew he had probably been yelling at me for ten minutes or more. He might have been at it for hours. Who knows? I know I was not counting. I was trying to sleep.  
  
“Callie?” he called.  
  
I opened my eyes and looked around the room. The lights were off, sunlight coming in through the curtains. I blinked and closed my eyes again. I was seconds from falling asleep again when the ceiling fan light and the light above the closet came on.  
  
“Callie!” Chibs said strictly.  
  
My heart jumped and I was ripped back to consciousness.  
  
“Wha…?” I mumbled.  
  
“Are ya seriously still sleepin’?” he asked, voice cracking as it jumped an octave.  
  
My eyes snapped open and I narrowed them angrily. I hated being woken up, but not only being woken up out of a dead sleep, but a dead sleep that made me forget that I didn’t feel good.  
I felt the mattress suddenly bounce under his weight and I nearly whipped around and shoved him to the floor.  
  
“Ya gonna sleep all day, love?” he asked.  
  
I groaned.  
  
“What time is it?” I asked tiredly.  
  
Chibs sighed, exasperated.  
  
“It’s noon. Callie, c’mon,” he pleaded, shaking my shoulder.  
  
“Chibs, stop!” I whined into the pillow.  
  
He huffed.  
  
“What’s wrong, love?” he asked.  
  
“I don’t feel good,” I grumbled, “Leave me alone.”  
  
I immediately regretted saying that. I had never pushed him away like that, especially when I didn’t feel well, and I could sense his hesitation.  
  
“What’s goin’ on, Cal?” he asked, taking a softer tone, “Ya got a cold?”  
  
I felt his warm hand touch my forehead and cheeks.  
  
“You’re not hot,” he said.  
  
I curled in on myself and buried my face in the comforter.  
  
“Ya got a headache?” he asked.  
  
“No, but if you jostle the bed one more time, I’m going to puke on you,” I said darkly.  
  
I didn’t have to look at him to know he was instantly concerned. I could feel it.  
  
“Ah, shit. Did ya catch a stomach bug?” he asked.  
  
“I just feel nauseous,” I replied.  
  
He sighed, then as carefully and slowly as he could, moved to lay behind me. He draped an arm around my stomach and I felt he breath on my neck. I really didn’t need his body heat right now, as it only made the rolling in my stomach worse, but I didn’t have the energy to object.  
  
“Have ya thrown up or anythin’?” he asked.  
  
I shook my head. He hummed thoughtfully, and I felt his hand run across my stomach.  
  
“Maybe we finally knocked ya up,” he said playfully.  
  
I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at him.  
  
“I don’t know. Probably just acid indigestion. Could you go get me some TUMS or something?” I asked.  
  
He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek.  
  
“Absolutely,” he replied, then slipped off of the bed to retrieve what I hoped would cure me for the day.  
  
I closed my eyes again and laid still, willing my stomach to calm down when Chibs returned with a bottle of antacid tablets and a glass of water. He set the items down on my nightstand and kissed my forehead.  
  
“Need anythin’ else?” he asked.  
  
I opened my eyes to see the bottle and glass and shook my head. He ruffled my hair.  
  
“‘Kay. Try and see if ya can get around. We got church and I ain’t leavin’ ya here by yourself,” he said.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“If not, I’ll call our dear Venus and have her babysit ya,” he continued.  
  
“Well, call Tiggy, too. Don’t you dare ride alone,” I said.  
  
“I won’t, love. I’ll call him. See if ya can get your stomach settled first, though,” he replied.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Thank-you,” I said.  
  
“Welcome, sweetheart,” he said softly, then left me alone to get ready—or, at least try.  
  
When the room was quiet again and my stomach settled for a moment. I reached for the TUMS, popped two, then pitifully sipped the water, trying not to spill it as I drank it sideways. Afterwards, I laid still until the tablets of calcium carbonate did their job. The rolling settled, but my stomach still burned. I decided to try and get up, power through it, and pray it would end in a case of diarrhea over shoving my head in the toilet. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but I had a feeling that I had managed to poison myself. I was never cooking something for myself that was not precooked beforehand again!  
I slowly climbed out of bed and shuffled over to the dresser to get a change of clothes. I pulled the old t-shirt I had slept in over my head, tossed it to the floor, then dug through my underwear drawer for a bra. As I put it on, I winced at the surprising amount of tenderness that radiated through my chest. I grunted through the process of putting the girl’s in, wondering what the hell was making them so sore. I shuddered when I thought of what could possibly causing it. It only happened when it was about to be the worst time of the month, but I knew it could quite possibly be the exact opposite, and froze.  
I looked up at my reflection in the dresser mirror in deep thought. I tried to think back to figure out how many days it had been since we had begun to try, but I was too exhausted to think about it. I’d pass it off until later.  
I pulled my baby blue SAMCRO t-shirt on and a pair of jeans before shuffling off to the bathroom. My mouth tasted like Pine Sol from the TUMS, and it was making me feel worse, so I grabbed my toothbrush and applied toothpaste to it before leaning against the counter for support and brushing my teeth. Once the brush was in the back of my mouth, and the sharp peppermint flavor of the white, red, and blue paste hit my tongue, it hit me. I froze for a brief second before gagging, dropping my brush, and dropping myself over the toilet.  
I vomited the toothpaste, then whatever else that had not been digested. I had been loud as I hit the lid with a clunk and wretched. However, Chibs must have been outside, because if he had heard, he would have been right behind me. I coughed up the last of it, then flushed the wok and pushed myself to my feet. I grabbed a hand towel to wash my face of residue and tears, then looked at myself in the mirror. I rarely threw up, which made my worry worsen. My breasts ached, I was puking, and like before, I was sleeping all day.  
  
“Shit!” I hissed to myself.  
  
Had Chibs’ assumptions been correct?  
  
Down the hall, I heard the door open and the familiar sounds of Chibs’ boots on the hardwood and the clacking of Harley’s claws. He had taken the dog out, and had not heard a thing.  
Thinking quickly, I closed the bathroom door and locked it, then rifled through the cabinet below the sink. There was a drawer in the bottom corner I used to store larger hair tools. A blow-dryer, small flat iron, and a curling wand Venus had given me that I had yet to use. Beneath the piece of plastic and metal and clusterfuck of cords was a white and purple box I had purchased for such cases as this. I pulled it out of the drawer, sliding it closed and reading the label. My heart was pounding against my ribcage. I had anticipated being excited to take it, but I was so nervous, my hands were shaking.  
I read the back of the box, studying the instructions before opening it and pulling the test out. The instructions were similar to the test Brooke had taken, and not far from the one I had used during my first scare with Zero. I remembered being so calm when Brooke and I had read the box, as well as waiting with her in the apartment, but then again, I was not the one taking the test. For some reason, I had had it in my mind that it was not a big deal. No big deal, my ass. This was huge!  
After making sure I had the steps in my head, I went to the toilet and used the test. When finished, I was to wait ten minutes to ensure a clear result. Thankfully, we had invested in a cheap clock that Chibs had mounted on the back wall. I checked it, then piddled around the bathroom to burn time, not daring to leave. I didn’t want Chibs to find it. I had planned since the beginning to make it a big surprise, but I had a feeling he would not be as surprised as I had hoped. He could pick these things up effortlessly. His inner doctor made shocking him a little more difficult.  
Impatient, I checked the clock to see that only three minutes had passed. I turned on the shower to make it sound like I was busy, then opened the cabinet beneath the sink and picked up a bottle of toilet cleaner. I decided to clean the bowl just in case the test came out negative, and I really did have a virus. I did not want to pass it to Chibs. So, I cleaned the bowl and wiped it down with disinfectant before putting the products away, washing my hands, and checking the clock. One more minute to go.  
I turned the shower off before sitting on the edge of the garden tub and crossing my legs, nervously twitched my foot and looking at my palms. The scars from plowing them in a pile of glass were almost gone, leaving behind nothing but callouses and the natural wrinkles. I almost wished I had a palm reader with me, predicting my future (if such a thing really did work). What would the lines say? Would the top line lead to eternal happiness or doom? Did the middle mean that times were changing? And what of the bottom? I turned my hands back over and rubbed the cold sweat on my jeans. The only thing predicting my future was the little plastic piss stick developing on the counter.  
I looked up at the clock in time to see the second hand mark the minute. My heart jumped into my raw throat. There was no ring to alert me that the ten minutes were up. Nothing stopping me. No jump scares. It was just me, the dripping shower head, and the stick. I pushed myself onto weak legs and crossed the tile to the counter. The vanity light caused a glare on the read-out, and I could not see the result, forcing me to pick it up. I reached for it, willing my fingers to work properly. They trembled like I had the coffee shakes. I raised the test up. There was no white window to display a blue line or cross. I had purchased a digital test, making the results that much more real. It was just a matter of the word “Not.”  
I closed my eyes and opened them to see a gray screen, black letters staring back at me.  
  
“ **Pregnant**.”  
  
I let out a shallow breath.  
  
“Holy fuck,” I whispered.  
  
I set the test down and stared at eight letter word for a long time. Finally, when it processed in my mind. I smiled. I had a reason for why I felt like shit, but even more than that, my future was sealed. Our efforts had paid off, and the SAMCRO family was about to get even bigger. My anxiety was replaced by overwhelming excitement.  
  
“Yes!” I whispered.  
  
A knock at the door scared the shit out of me, and I dropped the test on the counter.  
  
“Callie, ya okay?” Chibs asked.  
  
“Yeah. I’m just finishing up. I’ll be out in a minute,” I called back.  
  
“‘Kay. I’m gonna go have a smoke,” he announced.  
  
I stared at the white door as I heard him move back down the hall. I wanted to run out screaming and show him the test, but I kept myself in check. I needed to plan this out. I wanted to surprise him. Hopefully I could keep up high spirits and hide what I now knew was morning sickness. It was hard to hide stuff like that, but I wouldn’t keep it to myself long. I couldn’t. News like this could absolutely not wait. I would have to, though, and keep the big news a secret until it was time. However, I had to tell someone. Someone who would keep their mouth shut.  
I gathered up my trash, stuffed it in the trash, then took the test and trash bag to throw out. I slipped down to the bedroom, hid the test in my underwear drawer, then walked into the kitchen. Harley was lapping water out of his bowl, and I gave his back a light scratch as I passed by to grab whatever kitchen trash there was to hide the evidence of the test further. Luckily, the trash needed to be taken out anyway, so I tossed the bathroom trash in with it and tied it up before placing a new bag in the can and slipping it back under the sink. Just above the sink was the window, where I could see the top of Chibs’ head and a stream of cigarette smoke. I decided to wait until he was finished, and took the trash to the side entrance. When I returned, he was finished.  
I walked through the sliding door to see him standing up and stubbing out the cigarette in the ashtray. When I stepped out onto the porch, he looked up at me, surprised to see me up and around.  
  
“Hey, darlin’,” he said.  
  
I pushed my hands into my pockets and tried to play like everything was fine, and that I had not just discovered what I now knew.  
  
“How are ya feelin’?” he asked as he approached me.  
  
I closed my eyes as he stepped up to me, cupped my cheek and kissed my forehead.  
  
“Better,” I replied.  
  
Which was no lie. However, I wondered how long it would last before round two of many would come.  
Chibs smiled warmly. My heart skipped. He seemed genuinely happy to hear that I was, for the moment, not sick. If he was that happy, I couldn’t imagine how happy he would be when I unveiled to him that he was going to be a father.  
  
“Good,” he said.  
  
I sighed and reached up to hug him. His reaction was delayed, as he had not expected me to hug him. Especially not so tightly. It took a beat before he reciprocated.  
  
“I love you so much,” I murmured into his collarbone.  
  
He pulled back, cradling the back of my head and looking down at me with concern.  
  
“I love ya, too, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice pitched high and his tone questioning, as if I was doubting him.  
  
He did not press, and lightly butted my forehead, resting it there and lacing his fingers with mine. I’m sure he thought I was just saying it because I was puny, and I was seeking positive attention. I let him think it. He was in for a big surprise.  
  
***  
  
Chibs had declared church that afternoon, which ended up being my first I had to skip. I half wished I had ridden with Chibs, and wished I had just never left the house. I thought riding might jostle my stomach, or possible give me motion sickness, but I found I was fine until a school bus passed me, the smell of diesel making me gag. I parked my bike, swallowing the urge to puke, and told Chibs I was going to lay down and sit church out. He asked if I was okay, and I just explained I felt weak, but didn’t dare tell him I felt nauseous again. I told him to come get me if they needed a proxy from me, and that I would be resting in the apartment for a little bit.  
My stomach settled not long after I laid down, the smell of leather and tobacco masking the residual diesel odor in my nose. When I felt better, I moved out of the apartment and walked to the kitchen for a bottle of water and a packet of crackers. I took the items to the bar, perched myself on the stool, and slowly nibbled. Church ended not long after I made it halfway through the pack, and the boys filed out of the chapel and split off to do their own thing. Chibs stepped up behind me, and I felt him grasp my shoulders and kiss the top of my head.  
  
“Ya feelin’ better, love?” he asked.  
  
I nodded and smiled at him.  
  
“Yeah, I’m good, baby. Thank-you,” I replied.  
  
He smiled and quickly kissed me before one of the guys called his attention. Tig walked up beside me and put an arm around my shoulders.  
  
“Hey, baby girl.”  
  
I looked up at him and smiled.  
  
“Hey, Pop,” I replied as he kissed my forehead.  
  
“How are you feeling?” he asked, “Chibby said you weren’t feeling well.”  
  
I nodded.  
  
“I’m okay, now,” I said.  
  
I glanced at the taps in deep thought. My mind flew back to the morning after my attack and my conversation with him. He had mentioned a few times that he had wanted to see Chibs and I start having kids and about wanting to baby-sit. He wanted to be right there when we finally ended up in the delivery room, and I knew I could trust him to keep his mouth shut.  
  
“Can I talk to you? In private?” I asked.  
  
Tig’s eyebrows furrowed and he nodded.  
  
“Sure, baby. Let’s go into the office,” he said.  
  
He put a hand on my back and I stood from the barstool and walked with him to the office. He closed the door behind us and locked it.  
  
“Something wrong, Callie?” he asked, concerned.  
  
I leaned against the desk and shook my head.  
  
“No, but you have to promise me that this does not leave this room. Swear to me, Tiggy,” I said sternly.  
  
Tig held a hand in the air.  
  
“You have my word, darlin’. I swear on my life, this does not leave this room. Don’t you trust me?” he asked.  
  
“Tig, this is like, huge, okay? You can’t tell anyone!” I replied.  
  
“I won’t tell anyone, Callie. I promise. What’s going on?” he asked.  
  
I bit my lip nervously.  
  
“Um…,” I had no idea how to word it, so I just blurted it out, “I’m pregnant.”  
  
Tig’s bright blue eyes bugged out of his head.  
  
“What?” he asked, voice deadpan before jumping an octave, “Are you serious?”  
  
I smiled and nodded.  
  
“That’s why I’ve been sick,” I replied.  
  
Tig covered his mouth with his hand.  
  
“Holy shit, baby girl! Wait a minute! Wait a minute. Come here!”  
  
I approached him and he cupped my jaw.  
  
“Is…this is good, right? Are we happy? This is what you want?” he asked, his tone taking on that “dad” tone.  
  
I smiled and nodded.  
  
“I haven’t wanted anything more,” I quietly replied.  
  
Tig smiled and hugged me. I felt unprovoked tears rush to my eyes.  
  
“I’m so happy for you, baby. Does Chibs know?” he asked.  
  
We parted and I shook my head. A tear escaped and I quickly wiped it away. Tig chuckled.  
  
“Oh, you’re definitely knocked up. You don’t cry that easily,” he said.  
  
I laughed and sniffed.  
  
“Yeah, I know,” I replied.  
  
Tig ruffled my hair.  
  
“When do you plan on telling him?” he asked.  
  
I shrugged.  
  
“I don’t know, but I want to surprise him,” I replied.  
  
Tig nodded in agreement.  
  
“You won’t be able to keep it from him for long. He picks up on that shit so quickly. He now knows the signs for you. It won’t be long,” he said.  
  
I nodded.  
  
“Yeah. Kind of hard to cover up morning sickness.”  
  
Tig laughed and put an arm around my shoulders.  
  
“We’ll come up with a diabolical plan,” he assured me.  
  
I laughed at that.  
  
We left the office and walked outside. Chibs was sitting at one of the picnic tables, looking up as Happy spoke to him, Rane standing beside him.  
  
“I know, boss,” Happy said, “We’ll figure it out.”  
  
I climbed up on the bench and sat on the tabletop beside Chibs. He glanced up at me.  
  
“Hey, darlin’,” he said.  
  
I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed his cheek.  
  
“Ya okay?” he asked softly.  
  
I nodded and nuzzled my face in his hair, feeling the need to hold him and stay as close as possible.  
  
“She’s tired, but she’s fine,” Tig said.  
  
Chibs held my hand.  
  
“What happened, sis?” Rane asked.  
  
I looked up and shrugged.  
  
“Stomach bug,” I replied.  
  
Happy looked wary.  
  
“It’s not catching, is it?” he asked.  
  
I smiled and shook my head.  
  
“I don’t think so, Hap,” I replied.  
  
He nodded. I looked down at Chibs.  
  
“What’d I miss?” I asked.  
  
He shrugged.  
  
“The usual. We’re going to call on Reno. See if there’s anyway we could form a trap around the trap that’s already been set,” he replied.  
  
I nodded. I was getting sick of this shit, and now that big changes were happening, I felt the need to just blaze in and get it over with.  
  
“I have half a mind to just storm into Indian Hills and drop a bomb on them,” I said bitterly.  
  
“No!” Tig said sternly, making all of us raise our eyebrows at him.  
  
His eyes darted around as he tried to come up with a quick excuse for his outburst.  
  
“I mean, not yet,” he said quickly.  
  
I smiled and shook my head. I knew exactly what was on his mind. I didn’t need to be fighting with my new condition, and Tig, being overly protective as he was, would lock me in the gun safe before letting me help protect my boys in a shoot-out.  
  
“We’ll think of somethin’,” Chibs said.  
  
The roar of motorcycles piqued our attention, and we looked up to see four purple choppers pull in and haphazardly park just outside the awning. The Freak Riders.  
Milo was the first to dismount, ripping his helmet off. Chibs stood, holding my hand as I slipped down.  
  
“Hey, what are you guys doin’ here?” Chibs asked.  
  
Jordie walked up to me and put an arm around my shoulders.  
  
“We may have a problem,” he said.  
  
Our eyes darted from Jordie to Milo.  
  
“What was your latest update on L?” Milo asked Chibs.  
  
“Up in Indian Hills. Stayin’ in a motel and workin’ with Gaines,” he replied.  
  
“Trying to be sneaky and get the cops up there, too,” Happy added.  
  
Milo exhaled sharply.  
  
“We got word a few hours ago that they were going to a safe house. Some place the charter owns,” he replied.  
  
“Somewhere up north,” Jeffrey said.  
  
Rane snapped his fingers.  
  
“I know exactly where that is!” he said.  
  
“Wait a minute,” I said, “Why? To keep L safe?”  
  
“Nah. Sounds like they’re moving stuff. There’s a bunker out there where they keep their weapons. Big, expensive shit,” Rane said.  
  
“Sounds like L must have paid them some big time cash,” Chibs said.  
  
Milo nodded.  
  
“Cash. Cars. There’s no telling,” he said.  
  
“But there’s an old house out there on the property. They’re probably putting Hanes up there until they can lure us in. Ten bucks says they’ll get us up there and save Hanes’ business for last,” Rane said.  
  
I snorted.  
  
“Yeah. That business being _me_ ,” I said bitterly.  
  
“That’s not gonna happen. We need to get some confirmation,” Chibs said.  
  
“Yeah, we need to make sure it’s real,” Happy agreed.  
  
Chibs was silent as he thought for a moment before making up his mind.  
  
“‘Kay. Hap and Quinn, you’re with me. Milo, I want you guys on patrol in Charming until I say otherwise,” he said.  
  
I shuddered and snapped my head up to him.  
  
“What?” I exclaimed.  
  
Chibs looked down at me.  
  
“We’re just gonna check it out and come back,” he said.  
  
“Hell no! You are not going up there!” I ordered.  
  
I was never one to tell him what to do, but I put my foot down on this.  
  
“Callie, we have to make sure it’s real,” he said.  
  
“Then, I’m coming with you,” I said stubbornly.  
  
“No!” he and Tig said in unison.  
  
Chibs glanced up at Tig as the VP moved behind me and grasped my shoulders.  
  
“You’re safest here, sweetheart,” Tig said.  
  
Chibs nodded in agreement.  
  
“Tiggy’s right. Ya stay here. We’ll run up there, keep it low-key, check it out, then come right back,” he said.  
  
My shoulders dropped in defeat. I reached up and held his face between my hands, forcing him to keep his eyes on mine.  
  
“You come back to me, Filip. You hear me?” I said strictly.  
  
He smiled softly.  
  
“I will,” he said, taking my hands and kissing my knuckles, “I’ll call ya when we’re headin’ back, okay?”  
  
I nodded. Chibs leaned down and captured my mouth.  
  
“Love you,” he said.  
  
I swallowed thickly. I didn’t like this. Anything could happen to him. They could be ambushed. Shot at. Captured. Hell, something as simple as a motorcycle accident could kill one of them. They knew the risks. I knew the risks. Still, I was terrified of losing him. Being separated like this meant I could not protect him, and that scared me the most.  
  
“Love you, too,” I whispered.  
  
He pulled me into a quick hug before he, Hap and Rane said goodbye, and Tig and I watched them jog to their bikes and leave the compound. I walked out from under the awning as they rumbled by, Chibs nodding to me and smiling. He was out of my sight in a flash, and I closed my eyes and turned away, my heart shattering at the thought of that being my last memory of him. I knew better than to think that way, but since this morning, everything had changed.  
  
“Callie?” Tig asked softly.  
  
I swallowed the lump in my throat.  
  
“They’re going to be fine, baby,” he said.  
  
I slowly turned back around, fighting the hormones that had turned my emotions so raw. Tig looked back towards the gate, then down at his shoes.  
  
“He wouldn’t have left if he knew,” he said quietly.  
  
I crossed my arms over my chest.  
  
“Then, why’d you let him go?” I asked.  
  
The look on Tig’s face was heartbreaking. Bright blue eyes flickered up to me, full of remorse. My anger sparked without warning. I spun away from him, my eyes conveniently falling on a beer bottle. I grabbed it by the neck and sent it flying as hard as I could. It rocketed towards the cinderblock wall of the clubhouse and shattered into a million pieces, brown glass and leftover beer falling to the concrete.  
Rat was just walking up to see what had become of the bottle.  
  
“Whoa,” he said slowly.  
  
I turned to see Rat’s eyes on the destruction. I sighed. I had to get out of here. I needed to worry were my brother’s couldn’t see.  
I walked just inside the door of the clubhouse, grabbed my bag and keys, and exited.  
  
“Take me home, Tiggy,” I said, walking passed him.  
  
“‘Kay. I’m coming,” he said.  
  
I walked out to my bike and mounted it. I hated myself for not telling him about this morning, and knew that as soon as he walked through the front door, I was telling him.  
  
***  
  
Rat stared at the destroyed beer bottle in shock.  
  
“Holy shit, bro,” he said to Tig.  
  
Tig looked down at the younger man.  
  
“Who pissed her off?” Rat asked.  
  
Tig frowned.  
  
“She’s not pissed, Rat. She’s scared,” he replied.  
  
Rat’s face fell. He glanced back at the bike to see his sister with her head hung, hands propped on the gas tank.  
  
“I’ve seen what she can do when she’s pissed. I don’t want to know what she’s capable of when she’s scared,” Tig said.  
  
“Scared of what?” Rat asked, confused.  
  
Tig stared at the boy before sighing heavily.  
  
“The worst.”  
  
***  
  
The drive had been a long one. Chibs had felt like they had achieved nothing. However, their trip had been far from a failure. It had been successful. Nearly everything had fallen into place—a rarity for SAMCRO. He, Happy and Quinn had felt proud of themselves, successfully finding Indian Hills’ safe house, and even happier discovering that the charter was indeed hiding things out there. They had spotted two members wheeling things in and carrying others out. They were preparing for something, and when Chibs spotted a pickup truck full of ammunition boxes, he knew that they were preparing for war. Their trap was set. They were just waiting in anticipation for SAMCRO to fall in it. It worried Chibs that they were loading up with heavy artillery, fearing that they may be planning an attack on the clubhouse like the Irish had done, but they were prepared for it. To Quinn, it seemed as if the rogue charter were only prepping. They would have their evil plot ready within a few days. Chibs put Lodi, Reno, and their patrols on high alert, then, before they could get caught, slipped out of there.  
They took a different route home, trying to avoid getting caught. Just an hour outside of Charming, with, thankfully, no tail, they stopped at a gas station to use the restroom and for Quinn to get a pack of smokes. Chibs decided to go ahead and purchase a pack as well, then stepped outside to have a smoke and wait for his brothers to get out of the restroom. He lit up a cigarette, then placed the Zippo in his pocket, exchanging it for his cell phone. He scrolled through his contacts list, clicking on his Old Lady’s cell phone number, and called. She picked up on the first ring.  
  
“Hello?” came Callie’s voice, rushed and breathless.  
  
“Hey, love. We’re headin’ home. ‘Bout an hour outta Charmin’,” he said.  
  
He heard her breathe a sigh of relief.  
  
“Thank God! Did everything go okay?” she asked.  
  
“Yeah. We found the safe house. Quinn thinks we have time to plan, but not much. I’m gonna close TM until the threat is out of the way.”  
  
“That’s probably a good idea,” she replied.  
  
“Aye. Reno’s gonna patrol and give us the heads up when it’s time. We’re gonna storm in and take ‘em all out, darlin’. This shit’s about to be completely over with. No more,” he said.  
  
He could almost hear her smile.  
  
“I’m so ready, baby,” she replied.  
  
Chibs took a drag from his cigarette and chuckled, smoke flying out into the air.  
  
“Me, too. I’ll see ya at home, Callie girl. I love you,” he said.  
  
“I love you, too, Filip. You and the boys ride safely,” she said.  
  
Chibs promised he would and they said their goodbyes. He then pocketed the phone, burned the cigarette to ash, and ground the butt into the sidewalk. He looked over his shoulder to see Quinn at the counter, and Happy just emerging from the hall. Chibs walked over to his Dyna and picked his helmet off of the tank.  
Across the parking lot, the familiar sound of a Harley engine starting caused him to look up. At the pumps was a flashy, lime green Road Glide, its rider mounting the machine. Chibs squinted. The man looked familiar, dressed casually, but had familiar brown hair and a somewhat familiar face. When he looked up, he spotted Chibs, and his eyes widened. Chibs’ muscles locked and his eyes narrowed angrily.  
  
“Shit!” the man barked out, and threw the bike into first gear as fast as he could.  
  
Chibs clipped his helmet on and started his Dyna without even thinking to get Quinn and Happy. He was out for blood. The bastard was out in the open without any protection, and even though he had promised to let Callie have him, he was going to blow Lancaster Hanes’ brains all over the highway.  
Happy was walking out of the store in time to see Chibs ripping out of the parking lot, another bike speeding away from him.  
  
“Shit!” he barked out.  
  
Happy tore off across the parking lot on foot, stopping at the end of the driveway and screaming for Chibs, but the President was long gone. If there was ever a time where he wanted to put his boot up Chibs’ ass, it was now.  
  
***  
  
I finished putting the last of the dishes into the dishwasher, then shut the door and turned it on. I had spent the last few hours home alone, much to Tig’s disapproval, keeping my hands busy and my mind off of worrying. I had obsessively looked at the front window every ten minutes, willing the black Dyna to come rolling in, bring its rider home safely, but all had been quiet. I assumed I should be thankful for that, as being home alone with huge threats hanging over the club’s head made being alone dangerous. I had sent Tig home anyway. I didn’t want him to see me pacing and panicking. However, that went away when Chibs finally called. One more hour, and he’d be back, and I could tell him the good news.  
I washed my hands and dried them, before walking off aimlessly, keeping my ears open and glancing at the window on the front door for headlights. Living on a dead end road in the country outside of Charming with no close neighbors, we didn’t have any traffic, so any lights that came through were for this house. Very rarely did we have someone pull in, only to turn around because they were lost. Hopefully that did not happen tonight, because any light would have me barreling to the door to see.  
I continued down the hall with no direction, aimlessly searching for something to do when I stopped at the guest bedroom. I had not been in it in a long time, and pushed the brown door open and turned on the lights. The light came on to reveal the messy rolltop, mess in the office chair, and more mess on the futon. It had long since been used as a bedroom, but soon, the room would be completely different. As surreal as it still was, this would be the baby’s room, and I suddenly found myself envisioning the transformation. The walls, which were white halfway down and green beneath the chair rail, would be some softer color, like blue or lavender. Possibly a pale yellow. The mess would be cleared out, replaced with nursery furniture. It didn’t even seem right. This room still screamed Chibs, even if it was the junk room. A room he had once used as a place to get shit done, would now be his baby’s room.  
Down the hall, I heard Harley back and take off running. I jumped out of the room, and could faintly hear the sound of someone pulling in. I shot off into the living room. Harley was in one of the recliners, his black and tan hair standing on end and the most vicious look on his face. He growled and snapped his teeth. I could see headlights cross the windows, and knew it wasn’t Chibs.  
  
“Shit!” I hissed.  
  
I ran to the coffee table, grabbed my gun, and cocked it as I crept up to the front door. Harley growled and trotted to the door. I looked through the peephole to see not a bike, but a white car pull in. The driver climbed out of the car and ran up to the porch. I felt my jaw drop when I recognized the driver.  
  
“Althea?” I asked.  
  
Harley snarled. He was ready to rip her throat out.  
  
Althea banged impatiently on the door.  
  
“Callie! Callie, open up!” she said frantically.  
  
I put my gun back on safety and grabbed Harley by the collar before unlocking the door and opening it. When Harley saw her, he howled and tried to lurch for her.  
  
“Harley, down!” I ordered, “Get back!”  
  
“Callie, you have to come with me,” Althea said, panic in her tone.  
  
“What? Why?” I asked.  
  
Her eyes told it all.  
  
“It’s Chibs.”


	55. Silent Voice

Chibs did not see the van. He could not see anything on the dark highway except the motorcycle speeding away from him. He only saw the headlights for a split second, and less time than that to react. It would have been impossible to save himself. Impossible to get out of the situation. He saw the lights, heard the engine, and before he could process what was happening, he was thrown across the highway. His body rolled off of the shoulder, crashing through sparse grass and tree roots. His helmet protected his head from any injury, and the thick leather protecting him for cuts. His jeans shielded his legs from everything except bruises, but no amount of denim could stand up to metal. Chibs rolled into a tree, and seconds later, the Dyna slid into him, pinning one of his legs between the hot engine and the bark. Chibs could do nothing but scream.  
The van pulled onto the shoulder and the doors opened. The motorcycle he had been chasing pulled up behind it. He had time to react now. Time to fight the urge to vomit from the pain. Time to try and free himself from the 700 pound machine. As men filed out of the van and walked toward him, he had time to register that he had made a mistake, and falling for the trap like a fool.  
He was yanked from between the motorcycle and the tree, feeling something sharp tear into his leg. He screamed and tried to fight against the arms that held him, but it was no use.

“Get offa me, ya bastards!” he yelled, trying to rip his arms out of their grip.

It was too dark and he was too disoriented to know where the elbow that slammed into his jaw came from. He snarled as he tried to get his footing, but his smashed leg caused him too much pain. The men pulled him to the shoulder and tossed him through the side door of the van, where another man was waiting with zip-ties. Chibs stumbled as he was pushed into the van, and felt someone shove him down, stomping on the center of his back and yanking his arms backwards.

“Should we get his legs?” someone asked.

“Nah,” replied the man pulled the plastic too tight.

Chibs could feel the sharp edges irritating his skin, and he was sure they would cut the thin skin around his wrist bones, if they had not already.

“He’s already lame,” he finished.

Chibs heard the door close and was left to lay in the floor of the van. When he tried to wriggle himself into an upright position, his helmet was removed from his head and fingers gripped the back of his hair, forcing his head up.

“You so much as spit, I’ll knock your goddamn teeth out, Telford. Do you understand me?” the man growled.

No one could see them, but Chibs’ eyes were cold and hard. He knew that voice, and he knew that as soon as he got the chance, he would try his hand at dentistry on Indian Hills’ President.  
Chibs was not one for submitting and keeping his mouth shut, even in pain and his mind hazed in outrage, but he knew better than to bite in a cage. There was no escape route, and he could barely see anything. For now, he remained quiet, waiting for his moment to strike, and his mind escaping to his Old Lady. To his brothers. Happy and Quinn would know he was gone by now, and would soon be on their way, but would they make it in time? The last time he was kidnapped, taken hostage by a rogue club member, he thought that his head would be filled with bullets on the side of the highway. He had faced the bastard with bravery, even though he was visibly shaking. He thought about his brothers in that moment. Thought of Kerrianne. Everyone that passed through his mind were safe, and if he had to sacrifice himself to continue to keep them safe, then so be it.  
Now, he thought about Callie. Every moment with her flashed by. He could hear her. Smell her. See her. He cherished every memory, and he felt sick to his stomach to know that waving at her at TM before taking off down the highway could be his very last. He cursed himself for acting before thinking. What would Callie think of him taking off to his death? If they killed him, L would go straight for her. The ex-VII member would find her, kill her, and all the blame would land on Chibs. He thought about the night she was taken, found bleeding on the floor in a Stockton pipe plant, and he thought about the heartbreak they experienced. They had been trying to fix everything that had been broken in their lives. Fix themselves. Fix each other. Callie had done so much to help him heal—physically and emotionally. Putting an icepack on the goose-egg that had formed after he had drunkenly slammed himself into a truck door, making him breakfast and forcing him in to things that in the end, were for his benefit. Helping him pick up the pieces after his divorce was final. Holding his hand through the deaths of his brothers. Making him feel like he deserved the world. Callie was his goddamn world, and they had been trying to build and expand their empire together, despite the bullshit neither of them wanted to deal with. Now it was too late. Too late to kiss her one last time. Too late to feel her arms around his torso as they rode together. Too late to wake up with her arms tightly around him, curbing his insomnia and creating a barrier from the nightmares. Too late to see if they would ever have the family they wanted to so badly. Too late to say “I love you.”  
Chibs was glad it was dark, for his kidnappers could not see the tears in his eyes. He wished he could apologize. He wished he could hug his Old Lady one more time. He’d give anything to spend just one more day with her. Unless he found an escape, then his time was up.  
The van slowed to a stop, and the engine was shut off. Chibs blinked away the moisture in his eyes and tried to raise his head to look around. The doors opened, and someone grabbed the hands tied behind his back and yanked him to his feet. His winced as the pain in his injured leg radiated through his side. Two men outside the van, both he recognized as members of Indian Hills, grabbed him and yanked him out of the vehicle. The man who had zip-tied his now bleeding wrists hopped out behind him, shutting the door to the van and removing his ski mask, revealing pale skin and bright red hair. Gaines. Behind him, L approached, a pleased smirk on his face.

“What should we do with him?” Gaines asked.

L smiled. Chibs stared at him dead on, setting his jaw and staring at the man with pure hatred.

“Take his ass inside,” he said.

The men yanked on the collar of Chibs’ leather jacket and pulled him through the dirt and inside a building. Gaines opened the rolling metal door and they pulled Chibs inside. He had a chance to take in his surroundings. His boots slid on the smooth concrete beneath his feet as he tried to catch his footing, but his injured leg was making it useless. The building looked to be an old machine shop. Workbenches held deteriorating boxes and dust. Beaten toolboxes were stuffed with wrenches, screw drivers, pliers, and other bits and pieces carelessly tossed away, making it impossible to close the drawers. Chibs could just make out old lathes, cabinets full of miscellaneous items, generators, an air compressor, propane tanks, a welder, and hoses and extension cords strewn everywhere. In the center of the shop were neatly stacked wooden boxes, information about the contents stamped in black on the side. Chibs was all too familiar with the box. They held guns, and some may have even held ammunition. This was not just a machine shop. It was Indian Hills’ gun storage. By the size of the boxes, Chibs could tell they were not dealing in rifles and Glocks. From SAMCRO’s dealings with the Irish and the Galindo Cartel, they were in deep with someone who had fantastic connections to heavy artillery. He bitterly wondered which gun they would select that would be the most effective in blowing his brains out.  
The men yanked Chibs around the stacks of weapons boxes and shoved him to his knees. He gritted his teeth as his leg throbbed. He knew the damage had to be bone deep. Gaines strolled around him and snorted humorlessly. L followed behind, eyes dead set upon him.

“Look at you now, Telford,” Gaines began, “Act all big in front of Teller and threatening, yet here you are on your knees. Your Old Lady ain’t here to defend you now. What do you gotta say about that?”

Chibs glared into Gaines’ eyes, cold as frost.

“Mo thuaireapadh ort!” he growled, then spat at Gaines’ feet.

The Gaelic words could have been tongues to the Indian Hills President, the harshness of the foreign sounds felt like a curse had been laid upon. Chibs refused to dignify the traitor with English. English or Gaelic, he wished them all to hell.  
Enraged, Gaines snarled and struck Chibs in the gut with the toe of his boot. Chibs felt the air rush out of his lungs and he buckled forward, trying to breathe and find his voice to express his agony. L swooped in, forced Chibs jaw up, and the SAMCRO President gasped, unable to produce any other noise. L’s grin was wicked.

“There’s no way out of this one, you son of a bitch. You’ve made your bed. Killing my President? You killed one of my brothers,” he said.

Chibs shakily swallowed as his breathing became more even.

“That filthy bastard deserved it. No one messes with my club, and no one lays their hands on my Old Lady!” he snarled.

L’s hand tightened.

“And about her,” he said.

Chibs hissed.

“As soon as we’re done with you, I’m going to find her. She will not be getting away with what she’s done. She’s a traitor to my brothers, and I know she’s the one who killed my Old Lady,” he continued.

Chibs said nothing, keeping his jaw set and his eyes locked with L’s.

“What do you think her punishment should be, Scotty? How about an eye for an eye? She kills my Old Lady, so I think I’ll kill your Old Lady.”

Chibs tried his hardest not to let his rage be expressed on his face.

“But don’t worry. I’ll make sure she goes out, shall we say, satisfied?”

Chibs kept his teeth clenched tight.

“Then I’ll gut that little bitch!”

Chibs suddenly snapped, and whipped his head forward, delivering a brutal head-on crack to the bridge of L’s nose. Not expecting it, he fell backwards, briefly releasing Chibs. Gaines stepped around L, shoved Chibs to the floor, and cracked his knuckles against his jaw. L scrambled up onto his hands and knees, shoved the Indian Hills President away, and began unleashing his fury through his fists to Chibs’ body. With zip-tied wrists and a dead leg, there was nothing Chibs could do except flail and try to fight back with teeth. He was helpless.

“Enough! Enough! Get off of him, goddammit!” Gaines barked.

One of his men ripped L off of the bleeding and defenseless SAMCRO President. Gaines licked his lips and pointed in the direction of a work bench.

“One of you grab me that crow bar,” he ordered.

One man obeyed and retrieved the tool, handing it over to his President. Gaines weighed it in his hands before his eyes flickered up to the man on the floor.

“Get him back on his knees,” he ordered.

The man who removed L from Chibs pulled him back to his knees. Chibs looked up at the tool, the heavy iron that would be his end. Gaines picked at the sharp end of the bar, then in a flash swung it. The sharp end that was meant to pry nails tore a gash in Chibs’ forehead, and his scream echoed throughout the machine shop. He felt warmth spill down into his eyebrow, his own blood dripping into his eye. Gaines smirked.

“This will work just fine,” he said with a sickening smile.

Chibs watched in horror as Gaines raised the bar again, ready to show him how to properly crack a skull open.

***

“Callie?”

I took half a step backwards and reached for my throat as I felt it close up.

“Callie, did you hear me?” Althea asked.

My stomach rolled, and I spun on my heel and bolted. I crashed into the kitchen, hitting my head on the sink faucet as I vomited into it. I heard feet rush after me and felt hands on my shoulders, lifting my hair out of the line of fire.

“Jesus,” she said.

I spat into the stainless steel basin and fumbled for the faucet. Althea helped and turned the water on, washing the puke down the drain and helping me get a drink and wash the taste of bile out of my mouth.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I cleared my throat and nodded.

“What happened to Chibs?” I asked.

I looked up at Althea as she grabbed a dish towel and wiped my face off. I was too exhausted to swat her hand away.

“I got a call that there was a motorcycle wreck on the highway. They said a man on a motorcycle was ran off the road and thrown into a van. They ran the plates, Callie. It was his Dyna. We got to go now!”

I felt my world stop.

“Goddammit! GODDAMMIT!” I screamed.

I bolted for the living room, grabbed my things and began to call Tig, Althea following after me.

“Can you take me to TM?” I asked her.

She nodded. I flew out the door and Tig finally answered.

“Hey, baby gi-“

“Everyone needs to get to TM now! Chibs got picked up,” I said, cutting him off.

“Shit!” he hissed, “Okay. I’ll round everyone up.”

I didn’t even bother replying as I hung up and climbed into the passenger side of the cruiser. Althea hopped in the other side, turned on her lights and siren, and ripped out of the driveway, slinging gravel.

“Why TM?” she asked.

“I need the fast bike. The club’s meeting us there and you’re going to lead the way, and so help me, if you fucking arrest us for speeding—“

Althea scoffed.

“For God sake, Callie! I’m trying to help you! Do you think I want to see him get killed, too?” she exclaimed.

I cut my eyes at her.

“I’m only going to arrest the jackasses who ran him off the road,” she said, trying to calm herself.

I just looked away from her. Within seconds, my composure was out the window, and the tears welled up and fell. I didn’t bother to do anything as I propped my elbow on the arm rest in the door and covered my eyes, choking back a sob. I knew it. I just knew something bad was going to happen. I wished I had gone with him. I wished he had never left. I wished Tig had stopped him. I couldn’t lose him. I didn’t want to know a world without him, and I didn’t want him to never know his baby.

Why hadn’t I just told him? Maybe if he knew…this was my fault.

I took in an ugly, shaky breath and held my fist to my mouth, keeping my eyes trained on the window as my vision blurred.

“Goddammit,” I whispered.

Althea was silent for a moment, but her voice ended the silence like the breaking of glass.

“How far along are you?” she asked.

I froze instantly, my crying immediately ceasing. I slowly turned to her.

“Excuse me?” I asked.

She broke her focus from the speeding white lines on the road for a second to see my face.

“Come on, Callie. I know you and the club well enough to know that absolutely none of you would ever show any kind of real emotion in front of a cop. Especially not to me. The last thing I would expect you to do is break down and cry like this unless there was a reason.”

“Oh, what? Like the threat of losing my Old Man isn’t reason enough?” I snapped.

Althea cowered a little and said no more. I knew my condition would be obvious. She was right. Allow me to puke in front of you and then break down into a fit of tears. Typical pregnant woman. Who was I kidding? She had seen a glimpse of what happened after we lost our first baby. This was expected, and as a woman, and not to mention a cop, she probably knew immediately. I hated myself for being so transparent.

“It may be safe to assume a month,” I said quietly.

Althea glanced over to me. I shot her a look.

“If you tell anyone, Althea, I swear to God—“

She held a hand up.

“You have my word,” she said.

I watched her for a moment, studying her body language before I decided she was being honest. I then turned away and returned to looking out the window.

“Does Filip know?” she asked quietly.

I shook my head.

“No,” I quietly replied.

Althea sighed.

“Well, he will,” she said boldly.

I looked at her in surprise.

“He’ll know his baby,” she said confidently.

I couldn’t help but smile a little.

Althea ripped into the compound and jerked the cruiser to a halt. Most of the club were already there, and I could see Tig’s towering frame moving towards the car. I quickly jumped out of the car and shut the door. Tig rushed me.

“Hap and Quinn are already on the trail. We got the Mayans, Bastards, and the Riders already on the road,” he said.

I nodded as I walked towards the garage.

“Good. Jarry’s going to lead the way. Someone open the goddamn garage!” I ordered.

Chucky, who was just exiting the office, looked up at me with confusion written on his face and the keyring in his hands.

“Open it!” I demanded.

He nodded and ran back inside. Tig grabbed my shoulder.

“Cal, what are you doing?” he asked worriedly.

“Getting a bike I can fly on. What do you think?” I snapped.

I really didn’t mean to be so hostile with him, but all I could think about was finding Chibs as quickly as possible, and every second meant life or death. None of it could be wasted.

“What?” Tig exclaimed, “Hell no!”

He pulled on my arm, stopping me as Chucky lifted the door, revealing the neglected Suzuki and it’s For Sale sign. I ripped my arm away from him and glared at him, outraged that he was wasting time.

“You ride with Jarry. You shouldn’t be fucking riding! What if you lay that bike down?” he hissed lowly.

“I am not fucking riding with her when I can be there before her!”

“But—“

“I am not letting my child grow up with their father!” I growled.

Tig’s eyes widened. He reluctantly nodded.

“Be careful,” he said.

I patted his chest and jogged into the garage.

“Stay behind me, Tiggy!” I called over my shoulder.

Chucky ripped the For Sale from the bike and handed me the keys and a helmet as I approached.

“It’s the only one I could find,” he said.

I put the keys in the ignition and nodded as I placed the headgear on my head.

“It’ll work. Thank-you, Chucky,” I replied.

He nodded and stepped back as I mounted the bike and started it.

“Bring him home,” he said.

I nodded.

“I will. Stay near a phone,” I replied.

Chucky nodded. I threw the bike in gear and signaled to Althea. She backed out of the compound and I flew across the lot behind her, Tig and my brothers following behind.  
My thoughts were at a standstill as we roared out of Charming. My arms were shaking, my breath was hard to find, and my focus was in and out. I had just talked to him. He was coming home. I was going to tell him everything. It was amazing how it could all fly out the window in an instance. What had happened to him? Where had they taken him to? Was he okay? What were they going to do? Was he already gone? I did not even want to begin thinking about what I would do if we were too late.  
Althea led us to a property where another cop car was parked at a gate. We were almost an hour outside of Charming, and nothing looked familiar. The only thing I recognized was the blonde officer that exited the other car as we killed our engine. I was shocked to see Officer Eglee step out and approach Althea’s car as she rolled the window down. We readied our weapons and gathered around her.

“I’ve scoped the place out. There’s a back entrance to the building. I spotted some motorcycles and a van up the driveway. Some of your guys are waiting on the back side of the property,” she said.

“There’s no traps down here?” Tig asked, “No cameras or trip wires?”

“If there were any, Lowman and Quinn took care of them. They’re on the backside with the others,” she replied.

Tig nodded, then turned to us.

“Okay, let’s sneak up there and split up. Surround the place. Find a way to sneak in and kill anyone except Gaines and Hanes. I want those motherfuckers alive,” he ordered darkly.

We nodded. Tig turned back to the cops.

“You guys got that?” he asked, pointing to them.

Althea and Eglee nodded.

“‘Kay. Callie, you’re with me,” he said, “Let’s go.”

Gun safety off and cocked I jogged after my VP’s long strides, jumping the gate and sneaking up the driveway as quietly as possible. My brothers split off on both sides of us, weapons ready as they scurried through the darkness. I stayed on Tig’s heels as we slipped up to the front of the building. Inside, we could hear voices echo off of the sheet metal. The front door was open, so Tig and I pressed ourselves against the exterior wall, carefully hidden as we listened.

“Should we sneak in?” I whispered.

“Just wait,” he replied.

I could hear voices that I could not distinguish, but the next noise was one I could not mistake. I heard a metallic ringing, followed by a heart-wrenching scream. Chibs.  
I tried to lurch forward, but Tig was quick to grab me.

“Easy!” he hissed.

“But that was Chibs!” I hissed back.

Tig tightened his hand around my wrist and his eyes widened.

“I know, baby. Just follow behind me,” he whispered.

I swallowed thickly and nodded. I couldn’t imagine what they were doing to him, or what they had already done, but I was about to put bullets in their heads for laying their hands on my Old Man.  
Tig and I ducked down and crept into the building, which from the looks of it, was a gun warehouse. Or at least, a quick makeshift storage building. The room was stacked high with gun boxes, and I wondered if this was their personal stock, or business. Either way, I wanted to torch it all with their bodies inside.

“Careful,” Tig whispered as he stepped over a piece of scrap iron.

I tip-toed over it and followed him up to the gun boxes. We readied our guns, keeping our eyes peeled. Tig’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he took a peek to read the message on the screen. I looked up at the tower of gun boxes, finding a wooden handle sitting on the ledge. I gently picked it up to reveal a ball peen hammer. I weighed it in my free hand and narrowed my eyes.

“They’re in position,” he whispered, replacing his cell phone and eyes flickering up to me, “We’ll climb over. You jump. I’ll scream. We’ll get Chibby home safely.”

I nodded. Tig gestured to the boxes. I pulled myself up the tower, Tig right behind me to catch me. We ascended the stacks of gun boxes until we were able to creep over the peak and peer down at the scene below. I could see what was left of Indian Hills, and I could see L standing beside that ginger bastard. When I craned my neck to see more, my heart stopped and my vision went red. Chibs was on his knees, clothes torn and filthy, and I could see trails of blood dripping down his palms.  
Gaines, who was standing in front of Chibs, tapped some sort of tool against his palm.

“This will work just fine,” he said, his smirk disgusting.

My heart jumped to a start as I saw him raise the tool. I launched myself off of the boxes and Tig let out what I could only describe as a battle cry. A furious wail that echoed with explosive repercussion from the sheet metal walls. Outside, a wall of deafening noise and lights lit up the dark machine shop. I flew down from on high, swinging the hammer. I hit Gaines upside the head, and before any of the Indian Hills guys could take a shot at me or Tig, my brothers appeared out of no where.  
Gaines fell in a heap as I landed. L saw me, but before he could point his gun, I took a quick shot, watching blood explode from his wrist and his gun clatter to the concrete floor. He screamed and grasped his ruined wrist. Tig jumped down beside me and my brothers surrounded me, creating a wall between Indian Hills and Chibs. A crash from the other side of the warehouse made us jump, and everyone looked up to see Althea speed in, followed by our brothers in Reno, The Bastards, The Mayans, and The Riders. All with their guns raised at Indian Hills and Lancaster Hanes.

“Jesus,” I heard Tig breathe out.

I looked up at him to see him looking down over his shoulder. I followed his eyes and my breath caught. Chibs was looking up at us, and it was like one of my nightmares had come true. He had blood dripping down his face from a gash on his forehead, and he was shaking from what was undoubtedly exhaustion and pain. My knees weakened, and for a brief moment, I thought I was going to pass out.

“Someone cut him lose, goddammit!” I barked.

Rat slipped out of the darkness and got down on his knees beside our Prez to free his wrists. I turned a deadly glare to the traitors in front of me and cocked my gun.

“You motherfuckers are so fucking dead,” Happy growled.

“Should we call it, brother?” Quinn asked.

Tig’s look was cold and ruthless.

“All in favor of Sons of Anarchy: Indian Hills charter meeting Mr. Mayhem?” he proposed.

Everyone, including our sister clubs and even Althea, who had stepped out of her car with her gun raised, voted unanimously.

“Leave these two alive,” I said, pointing to L with my gun and Gaines’ crumpled form with the hammer.

Tig nodded.

“Cut ‘em,” he said.

The guns went off, and I watched as Indian Hills fell to extinction, with their President doubled over helpless, and my former brother backing away fearfully.

“Take care of that little punk, baby girl,” Tig said.

I stepped forward, gun pointed at L as he backed into a body. He looked down at the slain traitor and froze.

“Look at me, L,” I said.

He looked up at me, wincing through the pain of a blown wrist.

“Callie, I—“

I narrowed my eyes.

“I once called you my brother without question. You killed my best friend—my fiancé. You poisoned him, then dared look me in the eye with sympathy. Then you killed RJ. Watched as Tino dropped my brother in the middle of the street. I thought those were your biggest mistakes until this. One thing you don’t do, L, is touch my Old Man. That’s the biggest mistake you have ever made in your life. Did you really think you could get between me and my family? Beating the shit out of me was nothing. Laying your hands on my husband? That’s unforgivable. You deserve to die by the hand of the VII.”

“And what, Callie? You still consider yourself a part of us? You never bore the ink!” L snarled.

I smiled.

“I know. I’m going to deal you one worse.”

L’s eyes widened.

“You’ll die by the hand of a Son,” I said lowly.

I saw flash of fear cross his eyes before I fired. The bullet split the bridge of his nose open, and Lancaster Hanes fell to the floor, dead. I took a deep breath as I lowered my gun. Behind me, I heard shuffling. I turned around to see Rat helping Chibs up, and my face fell when I saw his jeans drenched, a dripping gash curving down his right leg. I cringed and walked up to him.

“Brother,” Tig said, rushing to his side to steady him.

I ran up to him as he pointed to the sniveling man on the floor.

“Get tha’ bastard up,” he ordered.

T.O. and Happy ran to Gaines and yanked his bleeding body out of the floor. I walked up to Chibs and touched his arm. He looked down at me and gave me a small, reassuring smile. I just nodded. T.O. and Hap pushed Gaines against the towers of gun boxes. Chibs limped out of Rat and Tig’s grasp, the pain caused by walking unbearable. Yet, he pushed himself forward. It was like watching a great giant fall, and I felt tears prick my eyes.

“Someone give me a knife,” he said.

Tig removed his dagger from its holster—the same one I had threatened Gaines with on our first meeting. He handed it to Chibs, and Chibs tightly grasped the weapon as he pushed Gaines against the wood. I could not see my Old Man’s face, but the look of remorse in Gaines’ eyes told it all.

“Guess you win, huh, Telford?” he asked.

Chibs stood proudly.

“Aye,” he said.

Then, he plunged the knife into the Indian Hills Presidents’ neck. Blood poured down his front, and I had to look away. Rat put an arm around my shoulders and turned me away. I could hear the traitor’s life source spilling onto the concrete, then the traitor’s body fall into with a muffled splat.

“Get him to the car,” Tig ordered.

We turned to see Happy and Quinn, help Chibs to the cruiser.

“Let’s torch this goddamn hellhole,” Tig went on.

I broke away from Rat and followed my brothers as they held Chibs lean against the hood of the car. I pushed through them, rushing Chibs and yanking him into a hug, instantly bursting into tears.

“Oh my fucking God!” I cried, “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Chibs wound weak arms around me.

“Jesus, Callie girl. I thought I’d never see you again! Shit! I’m sorry, love,” he said.

I pulled back and cupped his cheeks, wiping the blood from his cheek with my sleeve.

“What the hell happened? How did they catch you?” I asked frantically.

He closed his eyes and looked down in shame.

“I fell for a trap. Ran after Hanes on my own,” he replied quietly.

I bit my lip and shook my head. I could have kicked his ass.

“You stubborn old goat. Jesus Christ!” I exclaimed, not sure whether I should slap or shove him, and not wanting to do either.

“But it’s over now,” he said, perking up only slightly.

I smiled and stroked his cheeks.

“Yeah,” I agreed, “It’s over, baby. We’re going to take you home. Back to normal.”

He smiled at that.

“I love you, Callie,” he whispered.

I blinked back tears. I never thought I would hear that from him again.

“I love you, too, Filip,” I replied.

He leaned down and kissed me deeply—or as deep as he could with what little strength he had left. When we broke away to breathe, I embraced him with no intentions of letting go.  
To my left, I caught a glimpse of Álvarez out of the corner of my eye, looking concerned.

“How’s his wounds?” he asked.

I parted from Chibs and he, too tired to protest, let me lift his hair and examine the gash.

“He could use stitches,” I replied, “Filip, how’s your leg? Is it broken?”

He shook his head.

“Just shredded,” he replied quietly.

Althea approached and knelt down and gently examined Chibs’ leg.

“He needs to get to an E.R., pronto. This will get infected and cause more damage,” she said.

“No hospitals,” Tig said.

“Aye,” Chibs agreed, leaning his head against my collarbone and his weight on me, “No health insurance, anyway.”

I rolled my eyes. We desperately needed to sort that out. Later, though.

“Well, let’s take you back to TM. Marcus, do you guys have a medic?” I asked.

The Mayan President nodded.

“Yeah,” he replied, then pointed to Chibs, “As of recent years, him.”

I looked down at Chibs and groaned.

“Jesus Christ!” I breathed out.

“Hey,” I heard someone speak up.

I looked up to see Sticky approach, dialing a number on his cell phone.

“We gotta doc, sweetheart. We’ll hook ya up,” he said.

I nodded.

“‘Kay. Have him meet us at TM,” I said.

“No!” Chibs argued, raising his head.

“Meet us at home,” he said.

I raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“The house? You sure?” I asked.

Chibs smiled.

“I wanna go home,” he replied.

I smiled and laid his head back down on my shoulder.

“We’ll go home, baby,” I assured him, “Sticky, have the doc come out to our place. Someone needs to go get his Dyna. Take it, or whatever is left to TM. Filip, you ride with Althea.”

Chibs’ back went rigid and his eyes wide.

“What?” he exclaimed.

“You need to get off of that leg,” Althea said.

I nodded in agreement. Chibs looked disappointed. I held him by the shoulders and looked him straight in the eye.

“I’m right here,” I said.

He gave in and smiled softly. I took his arm and looked up at Althea.

“Help me get him into the front,” I said.

She nodded and with a little extra guidance from Tig, we got Chibs into the passenger seat without much pain or fuss. I buckled him in kissed his bloodied cheek.

“You okay?” I asked.

He nodded tiredly.

“Right behind ya, lovely,” he said, cracking a crooked smile.

I smiled and kissed him.

“We’ll be home in a minute,” I assured him.

He nodded and I gently shut the door. Althea put her hands on her hips.

“Eglee is taking care of any cover up, so you guys just do what you need to do,” she said.

I nodded and looked down at Chibs, who was trying to relax.

“I told you,” she said quietly.

I looked up at her, knowing what she was meaning, and smiled.

“Thank-you,” I whispered, “I owe you.”

She smiled and shook her head.

“Seeing you guys in Charming every once in a while with the baby will be enough for me,” she replied.

I smiled.

“Let’s head back to Charming. Lead the way?” she asked.

I nodded. She climbed into the car, and Tig and I walked down to the front gate to get our bikes, and led a procession back into Charming.

***

I sat in the bed beside Chibs, holding his hand through every step of The Grim Bastards’ trusted doctor stitching him up. The forehead was not a big deal, but his leg…it was down to the bone. I was surprised I did not puke when I saw the bone. Somehow, my gag reflex had been disengaged. I was more worried about the leg. It was most definitely savable, but it would always be the weaker one, and he would have to relearn how to walk, run, and ride. It would not take him long, but he would forever walk with a slight limp unless he healed progressively faster than expected. I had a feeling he would show that doctor he could recover fully. It would be like nothing ever happened. He would not let himself cripple. That wasn’t my Old Man.

“It may take a month or two before he’s in full swing again. If he recovers completely, that is,” the doctor said as he packed up his gear.

I looked down and brushed the hair from Chibs’ forehead. Give him two weeks…

Tig decided to stay the night so he could help me maneuver Chibs when we needed to. I stayed up most of the night while he rested.

“How are you feeling, sweet boy?” I asked when we were finally alone.

Tired brown eyes flickered up to me, his eyelids hanging heavily and the whites of his eyes pink. It had taken the aid of a joint to get through patching him up, but he powered through it. I would never be able to describe how utterly proud I was of him.

“Like I flew like a kite for an hour. Stoned off my ass,” he said bitterly, but then chuckled.

I smiled and stroked the undamaged area of his forehead. He blinked slowly and locked focus with me.

“I’m so proud of ya, sweetheart,” he whispered.

I smiled.

“Droppin’ Hanes like ya did? Hot!”

I laughed. He might have still been a little stoned.

“I can’t believe it’s finally over,” I said.

Chibs smiled lovingly, then draped an arm over my stomach. I felt butterflies lift as he touched my midsection, oblivious to the secret inside. I wanted to tell him, but I decided to go ahead and wait until he was not in tremendous pain or under the influence of pot.

“Believe it, love. Soon, we’ll be able to put it all behind us, and work on our future again,” he said.

I smiled as he lightly stroked my stomach with his thumb.

Little did he know, I was already one step ahead of him.


	56. The Freak Circle is Complete

I don’t think Tig realized what he was getting in to when he offered to help with Chibs until he could manage on his own again. He knew Chibs was never a good patient, and I was not surprised when several arguments broke out. Mostly over if Tig would stay and make sure Chibs was steady while he used the toilet. For those first few days, he could barely move his leg without being in excruciating pain, and getting him to the toilet was nearly impossible, but we somehow managed. After getting him on his feet again, it was a matter of managing the pain, keeping an eye on his stitches, and waiting on his needs. Neither of us minded, and he was not a nightmare. He was very mild and well behaved for the most part, and we had fallen into a fairly simple routine. That routine however, was the second part of Tig’s worries. He had his hands full, as Chibs was not the only one in need of help. Between the hours of 2:00 and about 10:00 in the morning, while he was still on the night shift with Chibs before I took my shift, I would run out the front door, and let morning sickness run its course.  
Tig held my hair back, helped me back inside, and put up a fight when I offered to clean up what didn’t make it into the grass. It was tough on him, and I felt horrible, but it was what we had to do to maintain the secret. A week into it, Tig was more fed up with me than he was Chibs. By the second week, Chibs was moving more on his own, and Tig felt confident that I could handle him on my own. However, because I was sick almost every day, he came back to check up on us every other day. On this day, he had caught me right as I made it to the kitchen trashcan. I had found all sorts of places to puke since I was determined not to puke in the bathroom, as Chibs would hear being in the next room. I was sick of running like a maniac to get to a place to be sick. Thankfully, the secret would soon be out in the open.  
Chibs had been cleared to get out of the house, but it would be another few weeks before he could ride. However, the Grim Bastards doc, who had done an amazing job with Chibs’ wounds and I could never thank him enough, checked up on him and cleared him to function as a human again. No running, heavy lifting, or riding, and he would work with Chibs to get his leg back to normal. To Chibs, that was the best news he had heard in days. However, it would not be the last of the good news.

“You know you can’t keep this a secret forever,” he reminded me from the bathroom door as I viciously brushed my teeth.

I spit toothpaste into the sink basin, rinsed my mouth out, then put my brush away.

“I know,” I replied, and turned back to Tig, “He’ll know soon. Everyone will know soon.”

Tig perked up at that, and followed me out of the bathroom as I turned off the light.

“When do you plan on telling him? At the party?” he asked.

I smiled back at Tig. The club, after hearing of Chibs’ being cleared, decided to throw a huge party in honor of him at the clubhouse. When Chibs caught wind of their plan, he put his foot down. He refused to let us have a party for him when, in his mind, he had done nothing to deserve it. He did not understand that we didn’t care. He was our leader, and he was our brother, and we only cared about having him back on a bike and at the head of the table as he was before. We wanted our King back in the throne. Chibs buried our plan before it could come to fruition, but not being one to pass up a party, decided that if we must have a blow-out at TM, it be a Patch Over party for The Freak Riders. Everyone agreed with that, but my brothers and I secretly made sure that the party would still be in celebration of Chibs’ recovery.

“I’ll see,” I said to Tig, “Definitely today, though. I have my first appointment tomorrow, and I’m not going alone.”

I walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed a pack of bacon and a carton of eggs in preparation to make Chibs’ breakfast.

“Really?” Tig asked, “Ultrasound?”

I shrugged.

“Not sure,” I replied.

Tig nodded.

“Where is Chibby? Still sleeping?” he asked.

I shook my head as I set the items on the counter.

“Last time I checked, he was reading some catalogue that came in the mail yesterday. You can go back and talk to him,” I replied.

Tig nodded. I turned my attention to the raw food and fought through my disgust. Bacon was not necessarily something I wanted to look at after puking my guts up, and I could smell the shit before I even opened the package. It seemed I had begun to acquire one of the magical pregnant woman super powers: Super Smell. I made a face of disgust at the bacon and quickly slapped it on the plate before moving on. To my surprise, my work was interrupted by Tig putting an arm around my shoulders and kissing the top of my head.

“I’m so happy for you, baby girl,” he said quietly.

I looked up at him and smiled shyly.

“Thanks, Pop,” I whispered.

Tig smiled warmly. He turned away and began to leave for the bedroom when Chibs shuffled in.

“Mornin’,” he said gruffly.

I spun around at the sound of his voice to see him rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“Morning, brother,” Tig said, “I was just about to come back and say hi.”

Chibs shuffled slowly by and smiled.

“Nah, I’m up,” he said.

I smiled at him as he approached, his own smile widening and his eyes bright and warm. It was like the dead had risen, and seeing him up and around made me happy.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I said.

He cupped my cheek and pressed a soft kiss to my lips.

“Mornin’, love.”

I held his sides as he grunted and shifted his weight, his eyes momentarily narrowing through a shot of pain.

“What are you doing up, Filip? You need to be rested for tonight,” I said.

He smiled a guilty smile.

“Aye. Couldn’t keep myself in that bed much longer. It’s drivin’ me fuckin’ insane. I had to get up,” he explained.

I laughed and placed my hands on his chest. He smiled and watched as I reached up to examine the sealed cut on his forehead. The stitches had already come out, but it was still a little red. Nothing time and the sun wouldn’t fade, though. His wrists were what had bothered him more than anything. He had been sliced deeply on his right wrist, which, unfortunately, was where the phoenix tattoo was located. A big red line was running across it now. It wasn’t bad, but it bothered him seeing a tattoo that meant so much now damaged. Possibly forever. It hurt me too, but not as much as it would have if we had been too late.

“How’s the leg?” I asked.

He shrugged.

“Hurts,” he grumbled.

“Well, pop a few pain pills before it starts bothering you. Take a few more before we leave tonight,” I suggested.

But he wasn’t having it, and growled before his eyes fell upon the food on the counter.

“Not takin’ any today,” he replied, and shuffled away.

I sighed. God, the man could be so stubborn!

“If your leg is bothering you that bad, Chibs, then you need to take them,” Tig spoke up.

Chibs chuckled.

“I know, but if I take them, I can’t get hammered tonight,” he said.

Tig smiled and I laughed and shook my head. He had been looking forward to drinking tonight. He had been dry for two weeks, and Tig and I agreed that he would use a splash of alcohol.

“True,” Tig said.

Chibs smiled and gestured to the bacon and eggs.

“What’s all this, sweetheart?” he asked.

I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Getting ready to make you breakfast,” I replied.

Chibs’ jaw dropped.

“Aw, ya don’t have to do that. I got it,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow at him.

“You sure?” I asked.

He nodded.

“I need to stretch my muscles, anyway. Ya take break,” he replied.

I didn’t move. I didn’t like him slaving over the stove with his leg hurting, but when his eyes widened and a big, toothy grin appeared, I knew he could handle it.

“Fine,” I gave in, then turned to Tig, “Would you like some coffee, Tiggy? Hang out for a while?”

Tig shook his head and waved me off.

“Nah, that’s okay, darlin’. I just wanted to drop by and check in. Ratty and I are going to go help the Crow Eaters get ready for the party tonight.”

“You sure?” Chibs asked.

Tig smiled and nodded.

“Yeah. Thank-you, though. I’m gonna head on outta here. If you two need me, call, ‘kay?” he said.

Chibs and I nodded.

“Got it,” Chibs said.

“And if you need us to get anything for the party, let us know,” I said.

Tig nodded and gave me a thumbs up.

“Roger that, Cal. You two behave,” he said.

Chibs set a skillet on the stovetop.

“Can’t promise ya nothin’,” he replied.

Tig laughed and said his goodbyes before patting Harley as he walked in, and leaving us to ourselves. Chibs looked over his shoulder and waiting until he heard the front door close and Tig’s bike start up before looking down at me, his eyes lighting up.

“Wow! Ya’d think he was sick of us or somethin’!” he said playfully.

I laughed and let him make his breakfast before walking down the hall to the bedroom. I was planning on changing into my outfit of the day, but as I opened the dresser drawers, a blue box hidden beneath my socks caught my eye. I sighed and checked to make sure the coast was clear before removing the box from its hiding place. The box was a navy velvet case from a necklace that Venus had gifted to me back in May, and I found that it was the perfect little box to hold something I found more valuable than any piece of jewelry, and had decided that that was how I would present the white stick of wonder to Chibs.  
I opened the box, and there in the cream satin, was the pregnancy test, the positive result staring me in the face as boldly as it had when I had taken it. I took a deep breath, my heart racing as I closed the box again. I had thought about how I would tell Chibs over and over again. At dinner. In bed. Before the accident, I had wanted to talk him into taking me to the overlook, where I would present the box there, but since then, I had decided to pretend it was a get-well present. It was just a matter of when. As I listened to him clang around the kitchen, and could smell the stomach-rolling odor of bacon, I decided to go ahead and do it now.

“Hey, Filip?” I called.

“Yeah?”

“When you get a moment, could you come in here?” I asked.

I listened as he banged what must have been a spatula on the side of a pan.

“Be there in a minute!”

Quickly, I set the box down next to a pile of Chibs’ mismatched socks and my jewelry box before changing out of my sleepwear and into a long-sleeved top and jeans. As I pulled them up and began to button them, I noticed that I had to suck it in.

“Shit,” I murmured to myself, “So it begins.”

I managed to get the jeans on and had just finished slipping my socks over my feet when Chibs entered.

“What’s up?” he asked.

I smiled and stood from the old chair in the corner, picking up the box as I approached him and trying desperately to mask my nervousness. He watched me carefully, and eyed the box with a mixture of intrigue and concern.

“Whatcha got there, Callie girl?” he asked.

I smiled.

“A little get-well present,” I replied.

His eyes widened as far as they could go and his nostrils flared.

“Callie!” he scolded.

“Hey!” I said defensively, grinning as I watched him get angry over nothing, “To be fair, I already had it, and you can’t return it now, anyway, so take it.”

I handed him the necklace box, and he reluctantly took it, staring me down with cold eyes and a playful smirk.

“Ya don’t have to get me anythin’. I’ve told all of ya a thousand fuckin’ times,” he said.

I smiled shyly.

“I know. Open it anyway,” I replied stubbornly.

His anger faded and he looked down at the box.

“Looks expensive,” he said, sounding impressed, “What is it? A necklace?”

He shook the box to listen to the contents.

“For God’s sakes, Filip! Just open the damn thing!”

He chuckled.

“I can’t take a guess?” he asked.

I smiled. What was in that box was everything, and it would most likely knock him off his feet. I glanced over at the bed. Opening it sitting might be a better option.

“Actually, you might want to sit for it,” I said meekly.

Chibs arched an eyebrow, now confused. I smiled and took him by the hands, leading him over to his side of the bed and sitting him down.

“What the hell is in this that’s so important, Callie?” he asked.

I stood before him and smiled.

“Now open it,” I said, ignoring his question.

He huffed and stared at me through his eyebrows as he lifted the lid. I held my breath and watched as he looked down and froze. For what felt like ages, he didn’t say a word. I don’t think either of us took a breath. Time had stopped. The silence was deafening, and I could not stand it any longer.

“You’re going to be a daddy, sweetheart,” I said quietly.

It was then time began to move again. I watched as I he picked the test up, his mustache moving as he sniffed. He looked up at me, and I could see moisture pooling in the corners of his eyes.

“This is real?” he asked.

I smiled and nodded. He looked back down at the test.

“Jesus!” he breathed out, “How long have you known?”

I then frowned. He wasn’t going to like the answer, no matter how much I sugar-coated it.

“The day you were jumped, you know? You know how I wasn’t feeling good that morning?”

He nodded.

“That was morning sickness. I took the test while you took Harley out to pee,” I replied.

Chibs’ face fell.

“Ya mean to tell me ya knew then? And ya still drove that crotch rocket and jumped off of a pile of gun boxes like a jungle woman?” he asked in disbelief.

I tried to keep my smile at bay.

“I was fine. I wasn’t going let anything happen to you.”

Chibs let out a long breath and laughed.

“Jesus Christ, woman!” he exclaimed.

I smiled at him. He looked up at me and smiled sweetly. My heart fluttered and my chest and cheeks heated up. It was all real now, and watching the utter joy wash over his features threw me over the moon.

“Come here, love,” he said softly.

He reached for my arm and pulled me down to sit beside him. He set the box and test to the side, then pulled me into his lap with little effort and kissed me passionately. I smiled into the kiss. When our lips parted, he lightly butted my forehead.

“You are a stubborn little shite!” he said playfully.

I laughed and pecked his lips before he moved back so we could look at each other. I cupped his cheeks and gently stroked them with my thumbs.

“Are you happy?” I asked.

If I could only explain the amount of pure happiness on his face. I had not seen his eyes so bright or his smile so big in a long time. All the pain. All the heartache. Long forgotten nightmares. All that was left was pride, joy, and tears that now spilled down his cheeks. He could only nod. I pulled him into a hug, and as he embraced me, I heard him sniff and felt him shake as he sobbed into my neck, triggering me and causing me to cry immediately.  
Chibs cradled the back of my head and nuzzled his nose into my hair.

“You’re bloody amazin’, Callie,” he said, voice strangled from crying, “You’re my hero.”

I cried into his shoulder and clutched him for dear life. He raised himself off me, only to lay me down on my back and stretch out beside me.

“I love you,” he said.

I smiled as he reached up to wipe the moisture from my cheeks.

“I love you, too,” I whispered.

He leaned down and kissed me tenderly, then slid down and cupped my stomach through my shirt. I blinked away tears and could not control the smile on my face as I watched him look down upon my abdomen lovingly.

“I love you, as well,” he said, “Mo aingeal.”

I smiled and reached down to ruffle his hair as he kissed an area once bruised with death, and now blooming with life.

“What’s that mean?” I asked.

Chibs moved back up, laying beside me and wrapping an arm protectively around my midsection.

“My angel,” he replied, almost shyly.

I smiled and leaned my head against his.

“I have my first appointment tomorrow. You wanna go?” I asked.

Chibs’ eyes lit up.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” he said.

I smiled and coaxed his head up to kiss him. After everything we had been through, we had come out whole, and I could not wait to tell my brothers.

***

“Alright, alright, alright! Everyone shut up and let me talk before ya all get too drunk to do anythin’!” Chibs announced.

We were seated at the bar at TM, the party in full swing, and almost everyone we knew in attendance. Chibs had been off of his feet for the majority of the night, saving his leg from any extra stress and the need for painkillers. I think the Jameson was doing a better job of it, anyway. He sat in the center, Tig on his left and me on his right, the rest of the club around us as my brothers from Long Beach stood before us. Chibs stood to his feet, holding my hand for balance until he found his footing.

“I think this is the moment you all have been waitin’ for,” he said.

Rat walked up to Chibs with a stack of new cuts, each with a Reaper. Chibs thanked Rat and looked down at the leather before smiling up at Milo.

“You guys have shown us your loyalty, and we can’t thank ya enough for everythin’ ya’ve done to help us. We’ve already taken the vote, but we want ya in a Reaper,” he said.

The Freak Riders smiled.

“So, all in favor of The Freak Riders of Long Beach, California becoming the Sons of Anarchy Long Beach charter?” Chibs proposed.

Everyone in attendance replied with a loud, excited, slightly drunken Yay. Chibs smiled and bestowed the cuts upon the boys. They slipped on their new leather, the four all smiles. Milo grinned and clapped his large hands on Chibs’ shoulders.

“We honestly can’t thank you enough. For letting us in, and most importantly, keeping Callie safe and well. She’s still, and always will be like a little sister to us, and I am proud to call you my brother,” Milo said.

The twins and Gavin happily agreed. Milo and Chibs bro-hugged.

“Welcome to the family, brother,” Chibs said.

They parted and Milo beamed. I stood up and all of us hugged our new brothers.

“I think we may have one more announcement,” Chibs spoke up.

I turned from hugging Jordie and looked up to see Chibs smiling at me. I smiled, my cheeks burning. Chibs held his arm out and I walked back to him. He slipped an arm around my waist. His chest was puffed out, and no one could doubt the smile on his face.

“SAMCRO itself will also be growing a little bit bigger,” he said.

Everyone either looked confused or surprised. Tig just smiled smugly. Chibs smiled down at me. I took a deep breath.

“We’re having a baby,” I announced.

The shrill screech of Venus could be heard for miles. She shot out of nowhere and nearly tackled me to the ground with a hug.

“What?” Rat exclaimed.

“Holy shit!” Happy said excitedly.

Venus squeezed me so hard I couldn’t breathe.

“Vee, c’mon. Let go,” I choked.

Venus quickly let go, holding me by the arms.

“I can’t believe it! Finally!” she exclaimed.

Chibs snorted.

“Why the hell are ya smilin’ like that?” he snapped.

I turned to see him looking down at Tig, who was grinning.

“Oh, I already knew,” he said with a shrug.

Chibs’ jaw dropped.

“Besides that, have fun with the morning sickness,” he said.

Chibs rolled his eyes and looked down at me as I smiled meekly.

“We’ll manage,” he said, keeping his arm locked around my waist.

My brothers stood and attacked us both with a hug, congratulating us and soon talking nonstop about how exciting it was going to be, and how Felix would have a friend close to his age to play with him. I sat on Chibs lap as he finished his last shot of the night, cutting himself off, as I couldn’t have any. He thought it was unfair, and instead, held me tightly as the party forgot about us as the music grew louder, and we shared soft kisses and stayed close for the rest of the night. I looked around the clubhouse at my brothers. We had been through so much. Death and life. Sadness and happiness. Dumb ideas and even dumber ideas. Saying goodbye to brothers and hello to new life. As I watched my club party and held onto my Old Man, it hit me how much of my life had changed. I had gone from utterly alone and hopelessly suicidal, to having a new home, new friends, and a massive family that was soon about to get even bigger. Most of all, I had love—something I thought was lost forever. I had Filip. This wonderful man who made my dream of living in this world come true. He had given me everything. Saved me countless times. He gave me a second chance, and he was my hero. He had given a family, a new purpose, and new dreams. I would never be able to thank him enough for everything, nor could I thank my wonderful brothers and sisters.  
We had waded through darkness, our shoes soaked in blood, and had come out on the other side triumphant. I was proud to be a part of SAMCRO, proud to call these crazy idiots my family, and proud to help raise their world from ashes.  
Chibs kissed my cheek and gentle rubbed my stomach. I smiled and held the hand pressed against my belly button. More importantly than anything, I was proud to be his Old Lady. I was ready to continue riding with them and raise hell. I was ready to stand at Chibs’ side and raise an empire.

These boys are my family. This charter is my home.


End file.
